Watching Angelina
by DrawnInTwilight
Summary: Ever since she'd made it onto the Tutshill Tornadoes, Angelina had been given star status. Now she's part of England's hope to win the Quidditch World Cup, but someone's not happy of her success and is willing to sabotage everything to keep her as theirs.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** Hey guys! Just letting you know, this is written in the mind set of an AU my friends and I created-aka the war takes longer than a year, to the extent of several years after the trio graduates (for some reason we think Voldy would understand world domination a little better than he apparently did), I don't think Dumbledore's dead (I could be wrong), if there was a battle at the school it wasn't the end-all-be-all and Fred Weasley/Tonks/Remus didn't die, Fleur and Bill got married a bit earlier and thus had a kid a little earlier too. ^_^ On that note, hopefully you enjoy!_

Chapter 1

"Miss Johnson! Miss Johnson!"

"Over here, Miss Johnson!"

"Just one more question?"

Angelina Johnson, the newest player signed to represent England at this year's Quidditch World Cup, beamed at the excited reporters and their floating quills. Next to her, her agent Mike Smithers, was trying to give her a look that meant "wrap it up."

She held up a hand. "Alright, alright," she said, smirking with pleasure as they fell silent. "Just one more question."

Instantly the jabber started again, making an almost continuous buzz in her ears. Angelina could barely keep from giggling.

Mike picked one waving hand for her.

The rest of the room fell silent and the young man smiled up at her. "Dinibrus Fargun, Miss," he said with a bow as his quill scribbled furiously across the floating notebook. "_Wicked Wonderall_."

Angelina nodded, a twinkle of recognition in her eyes. The _Wicked Wonderall_ was one of the newest magazines in Britain, very popular amongst those in Hogwarts these days.

"We have had many questions from our readers about one particular topic," Fargun continued, searching around in his pockets until finally pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. "Ah, yes. This letter is an example. He writes: 'I've been a fan of Miss Johnson's for a long time now, and was wondering if she would marry me?'"

A general chuckle floated around the room. Angelina felt her face burn red and she smiled politely. If anything, those sorts of fan letters were what she hated most about having chosen a career so public.

"_Our_ question," Fargun said loudly, at which the room quieted a little again, "is how large of a change has it been to deal with so many heart-sick lads writing for your hand? Have you needed to take on any special precautions?"

Dozens of eyes fixed themselves on her as she looked down at the podium to hide how her smile faltered. This was a sensitive subject between her and Mike, not to mention the rest of the National Quidditch Association. It wasn't just love in those letters, some had threats in them. Threats of bad things for her or for the writer himself.

One writer seemed to be getting serious.

Angelina looked back up, her smile as radiant as ever.

"It has been a very large change," she said, "but Mike Smithers—that is, my agent—and the rest of the NQA are fully equipt to help me when it gets to be too much. I never thought I'd say it, but there is such a thing as too much love."

The ladies and gentlemen of the press broke into chuckles again. Angelina gave a final smile and quick nod of 'thanks' as she felt Mike's hand on her elbow. The crowd broke out in shouts for one more question—they never seemed to get enough—but Mike swiftly led her away and out the back door while Ministry officials rerouted the disappointed reporters.

"You should have stopped answering ten minutes ago," Mike told her as they stepped out into the crisp fall air of London.

"I know," Angelina sighed, wrapping a warm cashmere scarf (a present from Fred Weasley and his wife, Jasene, last Christmas) loosely around her neck. "But they'd have called for another press conference if I did—it's best to get things over with, you know."

Mike gave a dry laugh and tucked his hands into his coat pockets.

Angelina smiled victoriously and lengthened her stride. It wasn't that she was late for practice, though she was, it was just her love of competition that soon put her at a jog and at least five steps ahead of Mike. By the time she'd reached the NQA training headquarters (the main floors of which were a ritzy spa), she actually had to wait for him at the door.

"You're losing your touch, Mike," she said, stretching out as he came up the steps.

"Oh am I?" Mike asked, smirking at her as he panted. "Well then let's switch jobs and see if you have any touch left."

"What, and sit in an office for most of the day?" Angelina asked and pulled the glass door open. "No thank you."

"True," Mike said as they got into a waiting elevator, where he prodded the muggle-numbered button 7 and then the blank space above it twice. "But I think I prefer that to dealing with the rest of those over-zealous sport nuts."

Angelina laughed and shook her head. The elevator doors opened and Mike stepped out, giving her a two finger salute as the doors closed again.

She smiled and watched the numbers light up until the number 13 glowed under the metal panel above the numbers. The elevator slowed to a stop and soon Angelina stepped out to the hallway that lead to the locker rooms.

Loud voices were colliding when Angelina pushed the door open. The team shared one locker room, men on one side and women on the other, but that barrier broke down as soon as Marian Forsathe and Duke Limmerston could hear each other's voices.

Angelina smirked at the quarrelers as she wove her way to her locker, tapping the lock with her wand.

"Hey! Where've you been?" a voice asked as she fought the buttons of her blouse. Iradessa Benson glanced up at her with a grin before going back to wrestling on her new shin-guards. "We were beginning to think we'd have to storm that press conference," she continued, "Bats raised, brooms racing, and such."

"Thanks," Angelina said with a laugh.

"Of course! What would I do if I lost my top girl?" Iradessa grinned again, before glaring at the remaining shin-guard.

Angelina chuckled to herself and pulled her practice jersey out of the locker. Iradessa had been on Puddlemere United, currently their most famous chaser, until she accepted the position of head chaser for the England National team. According to Iradessa, she was still debating if she really wanted to go back to Puddlemere once the Cup ended or if she wanted to retire—despite being only thirty-two.

When Angelina had asked her about it, about two weeks ago now, Iradessa shrugged and smiled saying, "I've seen all corners of the world more frequently than I've seen my own room."

Now that she thought about it, a good number of the recruits for the National team were from Puddlemere, three to be exact. Along with Iradessa, Benjy Williams was a back up seeker and Angelina's old teammate from her schooldays, Oliver Wood, had proven himself good enough to be first keeper.

Thinking of Wood, Angelina felt her face start to burn as she pulled on her practices slacks. The real world had certainly done him good. He was tall, he'd always been taller than her, but back then he'd looked a bit more like a monkey to her—burly and obsessed with quidditch practices. Now, though, he looked more... proportionate, in a way. More like a man...

"You feeling warm too?" Marian's voice asked from her right.

Angelina quickly pressed her cold hands to her face, hoping it'd bring some of the color down. Marian was fanning herself with her bat.

"It's way too warm in here for eleven of us to be milling around," she continued.

"Then get out to the field, Forsathe," Duke's voice shouted from the other side of the lockers.

Marian glared and swung her bat into the locker closest to her—which was strangely attached to Duke's.

"OI!" Duke howled. "Stupid _Wasp_!"

Angelina watched as her teammate's eyes lit with an angry fire before she stomped around the corner of the lockers. In no time at all, she could hear the other men trying to break up the fight. Iradessa joined them quickly, along with Gwenog Jones—their beater from the Holyhead Harpies as well as their captain.

"Remind me again," said Megan McCormack, the back up keeper from the Pride of Portree, joined Angelina as she closed her locker, "Why did the NQA put a player from the _Wimbourne Wasps_ on the same team as an _Appleby Arrow_?"

"Because they're hoping we can actually beat someone this year?" Angelina suggested.

Megan, who was barely four years older than Angelina, raised an eyebrow. "And how's that?"

"Easy," Serafina Desult said, coming up from behind them. She was Angelina's only teammate from the Tutshill Tornados. "Keep them at opposite ends of the pitch."

"Yeah, cuz that's easily done," Megan said, rolling her eyes.

Serafina gave them a helpless shrug and smile, then pushed past them. "C'mon, let's leave the _Wasp_ and _Arrow_ to fight amongst themselves, I'd rather be practicing."

Angelina nodded and Megan mumbled in agreement as they followed her. Angelina cast a glance at the boys' side of the lockers to see Marian being held back from choking Duke, while other teammates kept the Appleby Arrow chaser from attacking. In the center, attempting to hold the two at arm's length, was Wood.

His large eyes, which always reminded her of maple syrup, met Angelina's and he gave her a tired smile. She gave him a meek smile in return, feeling her cheeks start to grow warm as she quickly went out the door.

She hesitated outside the locker room, trying to get the butterflies out of her stomach before following her teammates. It had been three weeks since training started. Three weeks of long practices and close quarters with her teammates. And she still got butterflies around him.

This wasn't good. It was one thing to have a crush on your captain in school, but it was a wholly different thing to be infatuated with your teammate when you're competing for the World Cup.

As the hallway opened to the specially created arena, she gave a heavy sigh. Life shouldn't be this distracting.

Megan and Serafina were already flying laps around the quidditch pitch when she finally reached the grass. She watched them for a minute or two, then made her way to the broom closet. Even though she knew why the door was open, Angelina still stopped to check that the lock was still there. It was, dangling open on the outside of the door.

Normally they wouldn't have put locks on it, after all only a few people could come up here, and even then who'd be able to get there without the spells marking them? No one said so, but she knew the lock was there because of her. Along with Angelina's over-zealous fan-mail came some sudden break-ins and sabotage. It almost made her quit.

That was half the reason for the press call. She'd had a long hyperventilating talk with Mike and her father about it. Eventually they worked things out with the NQA, tightening security as much as they could without provoking attention.

It wasn't much of an assurance, but it helped. Sort of.

Angelina jumped as she reached for her broom, noticing another arm reaching in too. Her head snapped to the right and she instantly wished she hadn't looked.

Wood gave her another tired smile. "Hey, Angelina," he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent goose bumps up and down her arms. "Ready for practice?"

"Yeah," she breathed, smiling a little larger than she knew she had to. "You?"

His smile became more genuine. "Yeah," he said and looked down at his gloves as he laughed dryly. "Anything to get them to shut up."

She laughed along with him.

"Uh... So." Wood's voice was uncharacteristically hesitant as they walked back to the center of the field. "Practice ends early tonight—at five."

"Yeah, I heard that rumor." Angelina glanced at him.

Wood gave her a lopsided smile. "I was thinking," he said, the hand holding the broom over his shoulder drummed nervously. "I could walk you home tonight."

Angelina stopped dead in her tracks and quickly hid the surprised look on her face. "Really?"

He took another step then stopped and turned to her, an awkward smile on his face. "Yeah," he said, glancing back towards the rest of the team. "And maybe we could stop by the Leaky Cauldron or something on the way..."

"The Leaky Cauldron?" Angelina repeated, raising her eyebrows.

Instantly an embarrassed flush came to his cheeks and his eyes darted away from her's. "It's ok if you don't want to," he said quickly. "I just thought you'd—."

"Love to."

Wood stopped again and looked at her with surprise, then a large grin spread across his face. "Really?"

Angelina could feel her face burn. "Yeah," she said, smiling uncontrollably. "I'd really like that."

The only time she'd seen him this happy was back in her fifth year, when they'd won the house cup. He wouldn't stop smiling, and neither could she.

"Oi! You lot! Get over here so we can get out of here on time!" Gwenog Jones shouted.

Looking up, both went red as they noticed the entire rest of the team was in the air. Instantly Wood and Angelina mounted their brooms and kicked off.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Practice seemed to take forever. Angelina could barely keep her focus in the beginning, dropping a catch every now and then. As the hours wore on, she found ways to keep her eyes and attention away from him. And she ended up doing fairly well, until when she got to the locker rooms.

When she finished getting changed, her stomach was in knots. She'd just pulled on her coat and shut her locker when she saw him waiting for her. The butterflies were back at full force.

He looked just as nervous, almost bashful, in his tanned leather coat and blue jeans.

She barely heard the sudden shouts from her teammates—Duke and Marian were at it again. Their other teammates started towards the quarrelers begrudgingly.

Angelina glanced back toward were Wood had been leaning against the wall. He gave her a smile and nodded towards the door. She grinned back and grabbed her bag.

The silence of the hallway was a welcomed relief to her ears while Wood's smile was a welcome relief for her eyes. "They never stop, do they?" she said, taking her scarf from her bag.

"Not any time I've seen them," Wood said with a chuckle, watching her wrap the burgundy cashmere around her neck. "That color looks good on you."

"Thanks," Angelina said and smirked, barely managing to hide a blush. "Fred's wife apparently picked it out for me last Christmas."

"She has good tastes," Wood said, smiling for a moment before recognition flickered in his eyes. "Wait, _Fred's_ wife? As in _Weasley_? When'd this happen?"

"The year after we graduated," Angelina said, laughing at Wood's expression as she continued down the hall.

"And how'd I not hear about this?" Wood asked as they arrived at the elevator.

"They kept it small and kinda hush-hush," Angelina said. Wood raised an eyebrow at her, making her laugh again. "Their son, Kurt, arrived about five months later."

"Ah." Wood nodded in understanding, but as soon as they were in the elevator the corners of his mouth twitched and he began laughing. Angelina joined in, the old friendship they'd had was instantly right there again. For the first few weeks they'd been playing it cautious around each other, not knowing what to say, but now it sounded as though the flood gates were open—and Angelina was happy to be washed away with it.

"Oh it would have been one of the twins, wouldn't it?" Wood said, his face red from laughing. "What's happened with George then?"

"Oh he got married on the summer solstice of that year," she said. "To a cousin of mine, no less."

Wood shook his head, and gave another laugh. "Shows me for not keeping in better contact, ey?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Angelina agreed.

"Then I'm really glad that you agreed to come out with me," Wood said. "I need to be filled in."

Something in his tone made Angelina glance up at his eyes. Even though he was staring forward at the doors, she could see a longing in them that almost bordered regret.

He caught her eye and smiled, sadly this time. "I'm beginning to agree with Iradessa," he said with a sigh. "I've let the game take over my life."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oliver Wood?" Angelina asked, taking a step away from him.

That made him laugh. "I was a little obsessed back then, wasn't I?"

"A _little_?" Angelina raised an eyebrow. "I recall you telling Harry to 'get the snitch or die trying' that year the bludgers were after him."

Wood let grinned sheepishly. "Ok, so a little more than obsessed."

Angelina smiled back. "Yeah, well it happens."

"Yeah," Wood said, smiling brightly. "But tonight it's going to change. No Quidditch talk—unless you want to."

The eager look he gave her made Angelina burst into laughter. Which he eventually joined in. It felt like they were in Hogwarts again, not two people in their twenties who also happened to be on England's hope to win the biggest Quidditch tournament.

The elevator slowed to a halt and the doors opened.

"Whatever you want to talk about is fine with me," Angelina said, just happy enough to be talking so openly with him. "I actually might have some pictures of Fred and George's families if you want."

She instantly started digging around in her bag. Wood chuckled. "That sounds like a good idea—I know a pretty good muggle pub around the corner. How about I treat you to dinner?"

"Dinner sounds great," Angelina agreed, "but you don't have to treat."

"I know," Wood said, smirking at her. "But I want to. C'mon."

Angelina's eyes went wide in surprise as Wood's hand closed around her's and he gently pulled her out the door.

The day felt somehow warmer as they walked speedily down the block, though that could have been from the fact she hadn't stopped blushing since Wood had taken her hand. He didn't seem to notice, as far as she could tell. He was too busy leading the way.

At the far end of the block was a little pub with sidewalk tables and a large collection of restaurant goers already there.

"Oh," Angelina sighed sadly. "Looks like there's a bit of a que."

To her surprise, Wood gave her a grin that could have mirrored the Weasley twins'. "What que? These are muggles—they're smoking. There's probably dozens of tables inside."

"Oh." Angelina's cheeks burned again, but she couldn't help wondering how long Wood had been going amongst muggles.

His hand gripped her's again and he began weaving his way through the smokers. Angelina was stunned, he was agile as a cat. There were a lot of questions piling up, but she couldn't hear much of anything until they'd found a booth in the corner.

Just as quickly as they'd gotten the table, Wood was performing security spells. "To quell the noise," he explained to Angelina's surprised expression. "The waitress can still take our order."

Angelina nodded to his wand. "You do this a lot then."

Wood shrugged and rolled up his sleeve as he leaned back in the booth. "Often enough to know that it's impossible to think with muggles getting drinks," he said. "It's worse later on in the night."

She nodded in understanding, but her eyes were on his arm. Under his sleeve he revealed a hidden holster—made just right for a wand.

His eyes followed her gaze quizzically, but then he smiled and held up his arm to her. "Like it?" he asked, sliding the slim piece of wood into place. "Got it about two years out of school. When life got dangerous, you know?"

Angelina nodded again, he didn't have to explain any more than that. Harry's battle with You-know-who was far from over, but there had been a few conflicts so far and a lot of misery for all wizards. Wood's expression changed from sadness to alert as he quickly rolled his sleeve back down and buttoned the cuff again. He was staring just over her shoulder.

"All set?"

Angelina jumped at the sound of the waitress's voice.

Wood hid his laughter. "Yes, I think so," he said. "I'll just have some fish and chips—and a Fuller."

The waitress nodded as she scribbled his answer down. "And you?" she asked, turning to Angelina.

"Oh, uh..." Angelina glanced at the menu, hearing a chuckle coming from Wood. She smiled up at the waitress. "The same, but lemonade instead."

The waitress nodded and took away the menus.

Wood was still smirking, an enthusiastic sparkle in his eyes, when Angelina met his gaze again. Her heart picked up a few beats, but she was beginning to relax. She just had to make this a competition for herself. The challenge—acting perfectly comfortable and entertained around Wood. The prize—well, she could figure that out later.

"You did well," he said, leaning his elbows against the table. "Never 'gone muggle' before, have you?"

"Honestly? No," she admitted. "So, you've 'gone muggle'?"

"I guess you can say that," he admitted, glancing over Angelina's shoulder again.

The waitress returned and set down their drinks, then speedily continued on with her work. Wood turned back to Angelina.

"About a month ago I realized that I was tired," he said, watching her take a sip of her drink. "Know what I mean? Everything just felt so routine—not that routine is bad, but my life was a boring routine. There was nothing special about my days. Well, outside of matches anyway. So I went out."

"You're lucky noone's caught you, you know,"Angelina pointed out in a whisper. "Jasene says that the ministry was infiltrated about a year ago."

Wood shrugged. "Not surprising," he said. "Scrimgeour really didn't stand a chance. But enough about depressing topics. You said you have pictures?"

"Oh yeah!" Angelina turned to her bag and dug around for the small photo book she kept with her. It took her a few minutes, but soon she pulled out the small purple book.

As she started to hand it across the table, she was surprised to see Wood swinging himself onto her bench. He landed lightly right next to her and replaced his elbows on the table. "Well?" he said. "Go on."

She smirked and opened the small book to the first page. It was a family shot—her brother, her father, and herself. They were all smiling and Angelina was holding their small cat.

"They seem nice," Wood said. "When'd your brother graduate?"

"Four years before you," Angelina answered, she held her smile as she thought about Rex, though it wasn't easy. "He was a great guy."

"You don't have to tell me what happened," Wood said in a low soothing voice. "My sister's gone too."

That was surprising. Angelina had never known that Wood had any siblings, let alone that one had died. It was so strange, and a little terrifying, to see the intense sadness on his face.

Slowly, she placed a hand on his arm. His arm tensed a little in surprise, but he didn't move away.

Angelina turned the page.

Wood laughed. It was another old picture. One of the Gryffindor team, the year before Harry came to school. The next was of the Yule Ball—which had been a bit of a fiasco waiting to happen.

"You went to the ball with Fred?" Wood asked in surprise after she'd explained it a little. "Funny, I always thought it was George you'd fancied—not that one can tell the difference."

"True, but that's not Fred, " Angelina said, grinning as Wood's expression grew confused. "You remember how Fred had a pen-pal all those years?"

"I may have heard something about it," he said and nodded.

"Well apparently the two of them were getting pretty serious—despite the fact that she was going to school at Dragontounges in Canada or somewhere," she continued. "Later George told me that she used to sneak across on the Trans-Atlantic System whenever she had long weekends or holidays. So when Fred heard there was going to be a ball, he'd invited her instantly. A few weeks later, though, they had a huge fight."

"Did she back out?" Wood asked, still not understanding what was going on.

"No, but Fred thought she would, so he asked me," she said. "Only, when the night came, he sent George down in his place and he skittered off to Hogsmeade. Later Fred showed up with a blonde I recognized from the pictures in his bed side drawer. Neither of us figured out that the twins had swapped us until the end of the night—at which I nearly clubbed George."

At this Wood howled in laughter. "That must have been something to see!"

"Yeah, it was something alright," Angelina agreed. Despite how angry she'd been initially, though, she'd easily forgiven them. Both couples ended up having a great time together anyway.

She turned the page. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"Where's this?" Wood asked.

"The twins dropped out of school the spring of our final year," Angelina said. "They pulled all sorts of stunts and mischief—that was when Umbridge was in control of the school. Then they rubbed her smug nose in it and flew off into the sunset. Now their business is booming—literally at times—in Diagon Alley."

"Really? How could I have missed _that_?" Wood asked, looking impressed. "Where in Diagon Alley?"

"Number 93, I think," Angelina said, her eyes going back to the picture of Fred and George happily showing their products behind the counter as she focused her thoughts. "Maybe I could take you there some time."

The twins in the picture stopped showing off the punching telescope and glanced at each other. Devilish grins spread across their faces. Angelina glared at the picture in warning.

"Yeah," Wood agreed, not noticing the interaction between Angelina and the picture twins. "That'd be fun. How about... We have Wednesday off, don't we?"

Angelina nodded, feeling her face burn even more than before.

"It's a date," Wood said.

They looked at each other. Wood's neck had gone a little pink and his smile was a little shy, but Angelina had been pulled right into his maple syrup eyes. Her heart trip-hammered in her chest.

"Uh..." Wood's eyes glanced down and Angelina turned away, her eyes wide at the feelings he was giving her. "I think the twins are trying to tell us something."

She could hear the laughter in his voice and it made her look down at the picture. The twins were showing off fireworks—all of which showed hearts when they exploded. She quickly turned the page.

Wood started laughing. Angelina was fairly embarrassed and frustrated with the twins at first, but soon she gave up and joined Wood's laughter. The next few pictures were of Angelina with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, the only other girls on the Gryffindor team while Wood was there.

"The unstoppable trio," Wood said, admiring the pictures. "You have no idea how happy I was when I found Alicia for the team."

"Oh I think I have a pretty good idea," Angelina said, smirking at him.

Wood gave a guilty grin. "Yeah, I guess I'm a bit easy to read."

"Yeah, a bit," she agreed. "Alicia's actually got a place in Diagon Alley too, now."

"Really?" Wood asked. "What's she doing?"

"Jewelry, last I checked," Angelina answered. "She's pretty good too. Very into fashion. I think Katie's the one who got her the space—it's owned by her fiancee."

"She's getting married?" Wood asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

Angelina couldn't help laughing. She knew how Katie had been viewed as the little sister on the team, but Wood's reactions were priceless. "Yeah," she said, trying to control her laughter. "In about a month. Apparently he's in magical law enforcement or something."

"Wow," he said with a sigh. "Little Katie's getting married."

"She's happy, he seems nice," Angelina assured him.

"No, I'm happy!" He said, his eyes holding a seasoned look to them as he smiled. "But... ever feel like you're getting old?"

"Oh yes," Angelina said and laughed.

The waitress had just came over with the food as Wood started laughing too. She gave him a strange look, but left the two plates of Fish and Chips without comment. They laughed and picked at their dinners as they went through the rest of the older pictures. The last of which was of Fred and George's fireworks disrupting a quiet evening of picnicking on the beach.

"Just wait for this next picture," Angelina said, nibbling on a chip as she turned the page.

"Is that..." Wood's voice trailed off and his eyes went wide. "He's got _two_ kids?"

"Yep," Angelina said, barely holding back her chuckles at his expression. Fred and Jasene were raising their glasses towards the camera in toast while their two and a half year old clapped and the infant snuggled closer to Jasene. It had been a birthday party for Jasene's friend Alison Starlie, back in June.

"They're—what? Nineteen?" Wood asked, taking a bite of the breaded fish.

"No!" Angelina laughed. "Fred's twenty-two, like me, and Jasene's twenty-one."

Wood seemed to think this over, then smirked in defeat. "So how'd he meet her?"

"She's the pen pal," Angelina clarified. "The one from the yule ball."

"You weren't kidding," Wood said, shaking his head in amazement. "They _were_ serious."

"Very much so," she agreed. "Little Kurt, here, is turning three in November and the baby—Brandon—is nearing four months now."

Angelina glanced at Wood, he looked incredulously happy and forlorn at the same time. He slowly took the picture into his hands and ran a finger gently over the happy young family. "I kind of wish..."

"What do you wish?" Angelina asked softly.

He shook his head. "Nothin," he said and gave her a smile. "So who's the girl George is married to?"

Angelina gave him a small smile back and flipped the page. "My cousin, Melissa," she said, pointing to the grinning girl on George's right arm while he held a toddler in the other. "And that's their son, Derek. He's a little younger than Kurt."

"Wow," he said, smiling at the jovial faces in the photo. "Everyone's moving on. It's crazy, but—I don't know—I guess it didn't register that life would change this much in seven years."

"I know what you mean," Angelina said quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

They stopped looking at the photo album for a while, eating their food in thoughtful silence. She was starting to understand Wood, though, or at least the reason he'd come to the muggle lifestyle. She was sure if she'd gone off as he had, she'd feel the same way about trying to come back.

"Now, what about you?"

Wood's question pulled her from her thoughts and she gave him a curious look. "What about me?"

He smiled, but there was something in his eyes that made it look like he was also worried about the answer. "Well you must be seeing someone," he said. "Or do you have so much going for you that you don't need one?"

Angelina smirked and wiped her hands on a paper napkin. "Well there is a special someone," she said, flipping further into the photo album until she found the picture. "His name is Kellan."

There had been a fearful and dejected look playing on his face as she talked, but once Wood looked at the picture, he burst into his loudest and most relieved laugh yet. "And he's very handsome," he commented while trying to control his laughter. "Is he very protective?"

"Of course, and quite the jealous type," Angelina said, smiling. "He's not afraid to show his claws to anyone."

"And how old is he?"

"I got him about a month ago," she said, smiling at the close-up picture, "at that pet store in Diagon Alley for practically half price at ten weeks. No one seems to want cats over owls and toads."

"No, I guess not," Wood said, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. "So he's the only someone in your life?"

"Currently," Angelina said, closing the photo book on her little tabby cat. Their plates were empty and their drinks were almost gone. "Shocked?"

"A bit, yeah," he admitted. "Out of all of them, I'd have sworn you'd have a whole horde of men chasing you."

"Oh, well chasing, yes, there are a few," Angelina said, rolling her eyes. "But no one's caught me yet."

"So it's a game of catch, then?" Wood asked, smirking at her.

"Yes, I think it is," she agreed.

Wood's smirk widened. "I'll keep that in mind."

Once again Angelina's cheeks burned. Wood started laughing. She gave him a scathed look. He shook his head, still grinning. "Sorry," he said quickly, through his chuckles. "I was just thinking. You remind me of that Greek myth—that one about Atalanta."

Angelina gave him a wary look. "You're going to have to refresh my memory on that one."

"Atalanta was the only woman on the team of heros on the Argo with Jason," Wood said. "She was a top hunter and athlete—especially when running. Oh and she was beautiful—."

"As a side thought?" Angelina commented, smirking at him.

Wood rolled his eyes. "Anyway, she had a lot of men proposing marriage, but she didn't want any of them, so she started a contest. The man who could beat her in a race would be the one she'd marry. So pretty much every man tried and failed. Melanion finally beat her because he dropped golden apples into her path as he ran—which she stopped to pick up."

"Alright," Angelina said, laughing. "The man who drops golden apples in my path gets me, then, is that it?"

Wood laughed too. "Sounds about right."

"Well I'll have to keep my eyes open," Angelina said, shaking her head.

"Until then," Wood said, putting his napkin on top of his plate. "How's about dessert?"

"Dessert?" Angelina repeated and glanced down at her watch. "Merlin's sakes, it's eight-thirty."

"On a schedule?" Wood asked as he returned to his previous side of the table.

"Well, I've left poor Kellan home alone all day," Angelina said. "You're welcome to have dessert there if you want."

She bit her lower lip as she turned to put her photo book away and reached to pull her coat out of the booth with her, hoping she didn't sound as forward as she thought. Wood signaled for the bill.

The waitress left the check on the table as she went to drop off another table's drinks. To Angelina's surprise, Wood pulled several muggle bills out of his wallet and placed them on top of the check. He smiled at her. "Ready?"

Angelina nodded, smiling back as she pulled her coat and bag with her out of the booth.

Kellan was scratching at the door when Angelina and Wood walked up to her apartment, a small tub of ice cream and bottle of fudge in hand. "Oh," she cooed as she struggled to unlock the door. "Don't worry Kellan, food is on it's way."

"You make it sound as though you'll feed me to him," Wood said, smirking deviously.

Angelina glanced back at him to roll her eyes, then led the way inside. The little slate grey cat rubbed her ankles lovingly for a few seconds before it realized Wood was there and switched to sniffing him suspiciously.

"He's a guard cat, then?" Wood said and attempted to step around the small fuzz-ball.

"To some extent," Angelina answered, already in the galley kitchen. "He thinks he's bigger than he is."

"So I see," Wood said, having a hard time getting around the cat.

"C'mon, Kellan," Angelina called, laughing at the two of them.

Kellan looked at her as if she were interrupting some very important ritual, but quickly scampered towards the bowl of food she lowered to the ground. Angelina patted him gently on the head.

"Now stop terrorizing my friend," Angelina told him, knowing how much of a nuisance he'd been for other dates. _Not that this is a date_, she reminded herself quickly, but the blush came to her face anyway and she turned to face the kitchen instead of Wood.

"So," she said, opening a cupboard and pulling out two bowls. "What do you think?"

"It's nice," Wood said, nodding in approval as he glanced around the small, tidy apartment. "It's got a nice style to it."

"Thanks. Here," Angelina said, handing him the ice cream scooper from across the counter. "You get to dish."

"Here's one better," Wood said and with a wave of his wand, the ice cream appeared equally into the two bowls.

Angelina folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. "I thought you'd 'gone muggle'?"

Wood gave a guilty shrug and handed her one of the bowls. "Yeah, well, it's nice to have magic too," he said with a laugh.

Smirking at him, Angelina went back to the livingroom and sat cross-legged in her arm chair. Wood took a seat on the couch.

"So you're a lavender girl?" he said, taking a spoonful of ice cream to his lips. "Funny," he continued. "I always thought you were more strawberry."

"At school I was," Angelina said. "But then I went to visit Melissa—my cousin—while some of her class were vacationing in Ireland and stumbled across honey-lavender. Now it's just too good to pass up."

He laughed and shook his head. "Bless the Irish. What would we do with out their ice cream?"

"Oh laugh all you want, but I don't see you slowing down," she chided, glancing at his half-eaten ice cream.

Wood laughed again. He swallowed another spoonful of ice cream and looked around the room again pensively. "You know, I'd forgotten how much fun it is to go around with friends."

"Don't you?" Angelina asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but mostly friends from work—from the team," he said, placing his nearly empty ice cream bowl on her coffee table. "But those times are always focused on Quidditch."

"Seriously, _who_ are you and what have you done with Oliver Wood?" Angelina joked.

Wood laughed. "Would you like me to say that I've got him stashed away in a closet somewhere?" he asked teasingly. "And that I'm really that kid who followed you around Hogwarts—that commentary kid?"

"Lee Jordan?" Angelina asked, her eyebrows shooting up. Then she narrowed her gaze at him. "You'd better _not_ be."

"And with a response like that, I'm glad that I'm not," Wood said, smirking at her. "You really hated that kid, ey? Has he given you much trouble since school?"

Angelina gave a dry laugh. "He's only sent me fan-mail every week since I joined up with the Tornados. Thank Merlin, it's dropped down to once a month—as far as I know anyway."

"He can't take a hint," Wood said lightly, but frowned—which oddly made Angelina happy.

"Yeah, well, thanks to Mike, I don't have to worry about him," Angelina said and smiled.

Wood smiled too. "Well that's good to hear," he said. "Though, uh, he's not going to be too... put-out by me visiting is he? Mike, that is."

Angelina shrugged. "Why should he?"

"Let's just say he has a rough history with my agent," Wood said, giving a mischievous smirk and leaning towards her a little as though it were a secret. "I've heard that Mike's one of the good ones, though."

"Well. _Thank_ you for that."

"Mike!" She nearly falling off the couch. She hadn't even heard him come in, not that it mattered—he had a key. She was just happy this was a building that didn't allow apparations inside the apartment, as it was she was one step short of having a secret keeper for the apartment as it was. "What are you doing here?"

"I've got a few of the first prints from the conference this morning," Mike said, holding up several wizarding magazines. Pictures of Angelina smiled and waved to them from the covers.

Angelina smiled awkwardly, blushing. She hadn't really wanted to reflect on the conference at all, let alone with Wood around.

"But I see you're... busy," Mike continued, eyeing Wood suspiciously. "We could go over them tomorrow at the office, if—."

"No, that's ok," Wood said, catching the hint and getting to his feet. "I've got to get going anyway."

A small groan of disappointment escaped Angelina's lips and her blush deepened. Wood grinned at her. "So, I guess I'll see you at practice tomorrow," he said. "Thanks for dessert."

"Yeah," Angelina agreed, instantly following him to the door. "Can't wait—and thanks for dinner."

"Anytime," Wood said. "Maybe we could go out again—after we visit the twins on Wednesday?"

"I'd like that," she said, smiling and leaning on the door.

Wood's eyes glittered with excitement and he grinned again, then glanced down at her feet. "And nice to meet you too, Kellan."

The grey cat next to Angelina's ankles simply watched him curiously. Wood smiled at Angelina again, then slowly turned and began making his way down the stairs.

Angelina couldn't help watching him saunter down to the main level, looking like the adonis he'd always been to her. When she finally closed the door again, Mike had settled onto the couch and spread the magazines across the coffee table. Wood's bowl of ice cream was now sitting on the floor.

"That was Fallen Marcomb's athlete, wasn't it?" he asked, not looking up from the magazines.

"Oliver Wood,"Angelina said and nodded as she sat in the arm chair next to him. "We went to school together."

Mike nodded. "Well don't let him distract you from your game."

Angelina glanced at him, but Mike was still focusing on the articles. She frowned. "We're on the _same_ team. It's not like he's out to sabotage me."

"For now."

"He's my _friend_, Mike," she said firmly and a little colder than she'd intended to. "I trust him. Thank you for the articles, I'll look through them all eventually."

The expression Mike gave her was something between frustration and hurt as he got to his feet again. Angelina kept her gaze down.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said.

"Yeah, tomorrow."

She watched him go from the corner of her eye and waited until he'd shut the door behind himself to actually look up. Mike may have been gone, but the guilt that came with treating him that way stayed behind.

Her eyes fell on a pile of envelopes next to the magazines and Angelina sighed. He'd brought in the post from the owl room. This only made her even more guilty about fighting with him. How did this evening end so awkwardly?

_**A/N:**__ Yes, I'm only playing in the world left open by JKRowling, and yes, it's in my AU. And here you get to see my love for mythology getting meshed in! ^_^_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Angelina hadn't looked at her mail that night. She'd spent the evening listening to the radio, specifically to Lee Jordan's secret station which was for supporters of the Order of the Phoenix. She wasn't happy that it was Lee's voice that she had to listen to, but with the twins—and for that matter, her cousin and friends—opposing You-know-who, it was the safest bet to know what was going on.

The next morning she took he letters with her on her way out, but didn't have the time to browse anything until eleven when she got to the locker rooms. Outside of the regular bills and the few fan letters that had made it through screening, she was surprised to find a letter from Jasene Weasley.

With the noise of Marian and Duke fighting again, she quickly pulled it open before donning her wrist brace.

"_Dear Angelina,_

_So I'm writing about three weeks since we got to visit at Ali's party. But by the time you get this—Fred, the boys, and I won't have seen you for at least a few months. So I think you should come visit because we have important things to discuss—such as whether or not you'd be up to the idea of being a godmother. There's a picture in here somewhere, what d'ya reckon? Boy or girl?_

_I hope we'll see you soon!_

_Jase and the boys_"

Angelina stared at the note, reread it, and started laughing. _Of course_ Jasene was pregnant again. Why not? Even with two young children, Fred and his wife still acted like love-struck newly weds. Still chuckling, she reached back into the envelop.

"Hiya, Angelina."

Looking up, Angelina's smile only broadened as Wood made his way towards her, still pulling his practice robes over his head. He grinned back at her. "What fan made you laugh so hard?"

"Fred and Jase," she said, handing him the letter. Then she pulled out the sonogram picture Jasene had sent.

Wood let out a hoot of laughter and ran a hand through his hair. "That cheeky little blighter! Oh well done, mate!"

Angelina couldn't help laughing along with him.

"So let's see it then," Wood urged, an excited sparkle in his eyes.

Together they stared at the ultrasonic image, turning it in every direction.

"I have honestly no idea what we're looking at," Angelina said finally. She'd seen the ultrasounds of Jasene's two boys, but she doubted this one was more than two months along.

"Well," Wood said slowly, still titling his head from side to side as he looked at it. "It looks healthy... I think."

"Oh, well, thank you _Doctor_ Wood," Angelina said, smirking.

Wood grinned. "I'm going to place my galleons on a boy."

"Really?" Angelina raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, they only have boys," Wood said.

"Well if you're so sure, I'll take your bet," Angelina said tucking the picture away in her locker.

Wood's grin widened at the challenge and he held out his hand to her. Angelina took his hand firmly as they shook on it, breaking into her own wide grin. His hand had such a nice fit around her's.

"That's it!" Gwenog's voice shouted from the other side of the lockers. "You lot can sit in here for all I care, but I'll see you're off the team if you take away any more of our practice time!"

Angelina and Wood looked at each other in surprise and got to their feet just as Gwenog stormed to the exit. She glanced at them as she pulled open the door. "Well, come on, you love birds!"

Then she threw the door wide and strode out. Angelina's jaw dropped, she could have sworn she saw Gwenog's expression change to a teasing smirk just before leaving.

She glanced up at Wood. His eyes were wide and he was still staring at the door, though a smile came to his face as he glanced down at her. Both gave shocked and embarrassed laughs.

"I guess we should follow the leader, ey?" Wood asked.

"That'd probably be a good idea," Angelina agreed, smiling.

Wood shot her another smile and quickly sped back towards the men's side of the locker room. Angelina grabbed the wrist brace from her locker and kicked it closed. Megan and Serafina were still talking in disgusted tones as she joined them at the door, giving one glance towards Wood before following them out into the corridor.

* * *

><p>"Alright girls! How's about a round of drinks at the Leaky Cauldron?" Iradessa asked as she lead the way back into the locker room. The chasers and back ups had been let go early, due to a near perfect practice on their part.<p>

"I am more than up for it," Marian said as she dropped onto the bench in front of her locker.

"Sure, I've got no plans," Megan agreed

"How about you, Angie?" Iradessa asked, pulling off her shin guards with a grimace.

"Well," Angelina said slowly. In truth she had actually wanted to see if Wood would walk her home again, but if Gwenog was really as ticked at the rest of them as she'd seemed he'd probably be stuck there for at least another couple hours. "Yeah," she said finally. "Yeah, that sounds fun."

"Good," Megan said with a sigh as she pulled her Weird Sisters t-shirt over her head. "Because I need to be let in on some juicy bits of your life."

Angelina felt her face burn and she busied herself with the buttons of her blouse, but the other girls were instantly nettling her too. There was no way she was going to hear the end of this, but it was a relief when Benjy came in and the others quickly went quiet.

Benjy gave the group a quick glance, raising an eyebrow in question, then continued to the men's side of the locker rooms. So Angelina took her time changing and packing her bag, but eventually she did join the other girls.

"Oh, Benjy," she called out at the door, having opened it to find four eager faces staring at her. "Did you want to join us for drinks?"

"Thanks, Angie," he said with a smile. "But I'm meeting up with my brother's family tonight—Mum's birthday."

"Next time, then,"Angelina said, giving a smile back, but it quickly turned into a grimace as she stepped into the corridor.

"It might just be me," she asked and lead the way to the elevator, "but your smiles are really unnerving."

The foursome giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Angelina looked down the corridor as the rest of their teammates came plodding toward them, Serafina in the lead. "But one day we'll get off before you lot."

"Keep dreaming, kid," Marian said, folding her arms and grinning.

Several teammates chortled. Wood caught Angelina's eye and they shared a smile.

"Where are you heading in such a hurry, anyway?" Gwenog asked, looking much happier than she had a few hours ago.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Iradessa answered with a grin.

"Be seeing you lot there?" Marian asked.

Angelina blushed and pressed for the elevator again. A few of the teammates said they other things to do, but her ears were tuning it all out. Seconds later she was being herded into the elevator, while Iradessa shouted back to the others, "We'll see you there!"

* * *

><p>"It was just dinner," Angelina objected to the cooing noises her teammates were making .<p>

"Yeah, sure, and I just play quidditch," Megan said, rolling her eyes. Iradessa chuckled and got up to buy the next round.

"But it was!" Her teammates still didn't believe her.

"Wait, _just_ dinner? The idiot didn't even walk you home?" Megan demanded.

"Well, yeah he did," Angelina admitted.

The other women exchanged glances and knowing smirks. Angelina went red.

"Nothing happened," she insisted.

"I dunno," Marian said, smirking as she slowly lifted the end of her drink to her lips. "Mike looked kinda put out this morning."

Angelina looked up. Mike was still upset? She frowned. _Great_.

"Ok, lay off,"Iradessa said, returning with mugs for each of them. "Poor girl's already got nosey reporters after her."

"Nosey?" Marian repeated, attempting to look offended. She failed and smiled innocently instead. "We just want to know if we should be giving them extra time in the locker room."

Angelina choked on her drink. Her teammates giggled.

There was a brief moment of quiet while the women busied themselves with their drinks and the door to the London streets swung open along with a burst of cooler air. In stepped Wood, who was searching the room.

"Oy! Wood!" Marian shouted. "Come join us!"

Wood's attention snapped to them and he started making his way across the room. His brow was furrowed in thought and he was breathing a little hard, as though he'd run the whole way. Angelina put down her mug. Something was wrong.

"Here, I'll order you a pint," Megan offered.

"No thanks," Wood said quickly. "I just needed to find Angelina."

"What's the matter?" Angelina asked, getting up.

"Serafina," Wood said.

"What about her?" Iradessa asked, exchanging a concerned glance with Angelina.

"She collapsed."

_**A/N:**__ Dun dun dun! Yes, still AU and I'm working with characters not quite mine... I'm sure there was more I wanted to say but I'm about to fall asleep on the keys... Enjoy! More's to come! Along with more danger *evil grin*_


	5. Chapter 5

_From Last Chapter:_

_"What's the matter?" Angelina asked, getting up._

"_Serafina," Wood said._

"_What about her?" Iradessa asked, exchanging a concerned glance with Angelina._

"_She collapsed."_

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

"What?" The teammates leapt to their feet.

"Where?" Angelina asked, already pulling on her coat.

"About a block from here," Wood said, running a hand through his messy brown hair. "Mink, Gwenog, and Ken took her to St. Mungo's. We don't know any contact information."

Angelina nodded, already understanding how she was needed. "Let's go."

"Should we come to?" Megan asked, reaching for her jacket as well.

"No, it'll just crowd the waiting room," Marian said, though she looked a little pale.

"And they need all the space they can get these days," Iradessa agreed darkly.

Megan gasped. "You don't think it was—."

Wood and Angelina spun towards her, then looked at each other. No one even dared to finish her thought.

"No," Marian said firmly. "They wouldn't target us." But there was doubt in her eyes.

"We'll contact you when we find out how she is," Wood said, placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder and steering her out into the London air.

"Normally," he said as they walked briskly down the sidewalk, "I'd have suggested going by floo, but—."

"The channels are being monitored," Angelina finished for him. Melissa had let her know as soon as the twins' brother, Ron, had contacted them.

The arm Wood had around Angelina's shoulders tightened as he cast narrowed glances at the passers-by. The situation was serious and potentially deadly, but Angelina couldn't help smiling—Wood's arm felt like a perfect fit around her.

"So," she said, pulling her thoughts back to her fallen teammate. "What happened? What was she doing when she collapsed?"

"Uh..." Wood looked at her with a slightly dazed expression, apparently he'd been deep in thought too. "Well," he said slowly. "We were talking about the match between Greece and Kenya... She was laughing about something Mink said, but she stopped to pick up an envelop that she'd dropped, then she let out a cry and went down."

The remainder of Angelina's smile turned into a frown. That was very little to go on and before she knew it, they'd reached one of the most crowded streets in London. Wood quickly navigated their way through the swarms of shoppers towards the store called Purge and Dowse Ltd.—the shabbiest one on the street.

Quickly they walked up to a window display containing a mannequin in a hideous green outfit. "Wotcher," Wood said, leaning close to the glass. "We're here to see Serafina Desult."

A few seconds passed, then the model winked and motioned them forward. Wood's hand slipped from Angelina's shoulder and instead took hold of her hand as they stepped into the window.

Instantly the scene changed and the pair found themselves in the busy, but incredibly quiet, hospital waiting room. In the far corner, Angelina quickly spotted Minkus Lambent and Ken Parkin looking pale and worried in their seats. Gwenog was pacing nearby.

"Wotcher," Angelina said softly as they reached Ken and Mink. "Any news?"

Ken jumped at the sound of her voice and gave her a small smile. "Hiya," he said, then shook his head. "She's stable, but unconscious. They can't figure out what caused it."

At that moment a healer came into the room, handing a chart off to the receptionist, then she turned to the team members. "You're here for Miss Desult?"

Mink and Ken got to their feet. Gwenog quickly joined the circle. "Is anything wrong?"

"Well, yes and no," the healer said, giving them a saddened smile. "I believe she'll be fine, but we've had to move her to the fourth floor."

"Fourth—but that's spell damage, isn't it?" Mink asked.

"What's wrong with her?" Ken asked.

"We believe she came in contact with a cursed object," the healer answered.

"How?"

"That's what we'd like to know," the healer said, crossing her arms.

Angelina glanced up at Wood, he gave her hand a squeeze and retold the story that Angelina had heard on the walk over. The healer listened intently and tapped her chin with a curled finger as she thought.

"So, there were no foreign objects that she came in contact with?"she asked, looking fairly concerned.

"No, she kept her hands on the post," Wood said.

"Speaking of which," Ken said, pulling a small bundle of letters out of his bag. "Here, Angie. They were all your's."

"Mine?" Angelina repeated, taking the post from him. She and Wood exchanged glances.

"Yeah, she found it on the floor in front of your locker," Gwenog said distractedly, then launched into a long list of questions for the healer.

"It must have fallen out when I was trying to leave," Angelina mumbled, looking down at the ultrasound picture of Fred and Jasene's baby. "Oof! Hey!"

She didn't look back to see who had bumped her, but it had sent all of the post flying across the floor. Instantly her teammates and the healer bent down next to Angelina to help, but after a few seconds she pulled everyone's hands away.

"What?" Wood asked, looking at her curiously.

"That," she said, pointing to a necklace that had spilled out of a small parcel. "I didn't bring that."

"Are you sure?" Gwenog asked. "It could have been in the center—."

"My mail goes through screening," Angelina said firmly. "Mike doesn't let presents through."

"Too easy to curse," Wood agreed. He and Angelina looked up at the healer.

She nodded and picked up the necklace, being careful to keep her fingers only on the parchment it had been wrapped in. Then she hurried away calling for assistance as she disappeared down the hall.

England's Quidditch team stared after her.

"Do you really think it was cursed?" Ken asked warily.

Angelina was about to shrug, but the image of the necklace was still in her mind. "I've seen it before," she said slowly.

"Then... it's not poisoned?" Gwenog asked.

They waited and watched as Angelina thought, but she barely noticed. She just needed to place her finger on where she'd seen it... Not in real life... on a piece of parchment...

She let out a gasp. "Katie!"

"Huh?"

"Katie's seen it," Angelina said. "She drew it."

"So?" Ken asked.

"Who's Katie?" Mink asked.

"My friend from back when we were in school," Angelina explained quickly. "The year after I left a lot of things were happening at Hogwarts—Katie nearly died because of a cursed necklace!"

"She _what_?" Wood yelped, looking mortified. Then a hopeful look came to his eyes. "How did they cure her?"

"I don't know the whole story," Angelina said, Wood's eyes dimmed. "But the twins might."

Ken, Gwenog, and Mink looked at her blankly, but Wood's expression slowly brightened again. "What do you say to visiting their shop a little earlier than we planned?"

_**A/N:**__ short chapter to show I'm still here! Sorry for the cliffhanger of the last one ^_^ But when you think about it, cliffhangers are fun... *dodges projectiles* Ok ok! More fun for me than you! *snickers* Um. Anyway, prepare for even slower as my 8 yr old computer is starting to fail (though at the present moment it seems to be function almost normally again... O_o) Next up—the Weasley twins' house!_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was only six o'clock, but most of the shops were closing if not already shut down for the night by the time Angelina and Wood made their way down Diagon Alley. A million questions were running through her mind. Why would a cursed necklace end up in her mail? Was it even for her? Did someone really want her dead? Did someone screw up while screening? How did her mail get out of her locker?

After leaving St. Mungo's, during the silent walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, Angelina had been wracking her brain. Trying to retrace everything she did before leaving the locker room, which only made her even more certain that she had left the letters in her locker—and locked it. But who would want to get into her locker, let alone put something that dangerous inside?

"Is that it?"

His voice ripped her from her thoughts and she glanced around. Most of the street was dark, with the exception of floating street lamps and one specific shop which had colors in the window far too garish for most sane people.

She smiled and nodded.

Just as they reached the doors, she could see a twin's head appear in the door's window. He was laughing as he talked to someone over his shoulder and pulled down the blinds. Angelina bound up the steps and knocked heavily on the glass.

Instantly the shade when back up. George Weasley's surprised face broke into a grin and he unlocked the door. "Look who it is!" he shouted happily, waving the couple in. "Oy! Fred! You'll never guess who turned up on our stoop!"

"Wouldn't be Ron, would it?" Fred's voice asked from the back room. "Little bugger owes me three galleons from last week's match."

"Nah, can't say either of these have got red hair or a long nose," George answered.

"Huh?"

"Get out here, ya stupid git," George shouted, reinstating the securities for the store.

Half of Fred's face peeked out from the storage room, then a grin appeared.

"What's this? A Quidditch team reunion?" he laughed as he came into the room, wiping his face with a towel.

Angelina and Wood glanced at each other, both with one eyebrow raised. It wasn't that the towel was fairly dirty or that Fred was trying to clean himself with it, but the two couldn't help staring.

Half of his head was missing along with a good portion of his arm.

"Fred!" Angelina gasped. "What happened?"

"Death eater attack, nasty bit of work, ey?" George said, shaking his head, but when Angelina looked at him there was a large grin on his face.

"Well this proves you share a brain,"she said, rolling her eyes.

"If this is what comes from sharing a brain," Fred said, gesturing to the numerous products on the shelves, "then I think we'd have caused more havoc in school if we each had one."

"That's true," Wood said with a laugh. "So what really happened?"

"This?" Fred asked, he'd wiped hard enough with the towel to reveal his right hand. "New product idea—for the wizards and witches who can't do a proper concealing charm."

"Looks like it's working well," Wood commented.

"Yeah, until you try to get it off—I've been rubbing at this since noon," Fred said, laughing as he looked down at his arm.

"Can't wait to see Jase's reaction tonight," George said with a grin. "You scared the daylights out of her last time a product didn't wear off."

Fred grinned back at his twin. "Yeah, what was that one for?"

"The inferi one I think," George said, gesturing for their visitors to follow Fred.

"You created Inferi?" Wood asked, looking at the Weasley twin uneasily.

"Not real ones—it's just a product to make you look like one," George said, hitting him on the back.

"Oh yeah!" Fred let out a laugh and led the way to the back room. "Funny since she and her brother are the ones who developed that originally."

George quickly finished closing up shop and joined them.

"She's an experimenter?" Wood asked.

"Oh yeah, you haven't been around for a while! Well, c'mon, we were just about to go home for the night," Fred said. "You can meet the little wife."

"Oy! Mine too," George said, hitting his brother on the back of the head.

Fred swatted his brother back and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. It had an address on it, but Angelina was definitely sure that neither twin had written it.

"Got it memorized?" Fred asked, pulling the paper away again just to burn it. "Well let's get going then, we've still got a driveway to walk."

"A driveway?" Angelina asked.

The twins shrugged. "Used to be a muggle house," George explained.

Fred did the last of the security measures, causing a small light to blink in the door frame. "Alright!" he announced. "Time to go!"

With a quick turn the twins were gone. Wood and Angelina glanced at each other. A sudden female voice filled the room. "This space is protected, if you prefer not to have a purple rash for the next month, I'd recommend leaving."

"On that note," Wood said. Angelina nodded and quickly apparated.

_**A/N:**__ Still plugging along on my dear old computer ^_^ This is one of the few stories I've been able to fiddle with! Yes, Fred's alive, and yes both he and George are married to entirely outside of JKRowling created characters! As are their children! Anyway, you'll meet them soon. I'm just a bit worried about how I worked the twins, though... seeing as how I adore them, they're the ones I'd most likely ruin... Ah well. Enjoy!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Fred and George's identical grins were the first things Angelina saw when she came to a stop. Next to her, Wood was looking around, nodding with approval at the secluded lane and its lush surroundings. They'd stopped in front of a plain iron fence that must have been at least four feet tall, entwined and over grown with climbing roses so thick that it might as well have been a brick wall.

She and Wood followed the twins, who were busy discussing business and joking between themselves, through the strangely elegant iron gate and up the front lawn to a large yellow house with twinkling lights in all of its windows. It was one of the most familiar and welcoming sights Angelina had seen in a long time. The yard itself was amazingly well trimmed despite the dozens of plastic toys that littered the expanse.

Light from the front rooms on the main floor deepened the color of the cheery-oak as they climbed the grand porch, which Angelina happily noticed now had a bench swing attached to its right corner. She glanced over at Wood to see a look of awe and, strangely, envy on his face as he took in the picturesque scene. When his eyes wandered her way, she gave him a curious look which he responded to with a quick smile.

Ahead of them, Fred and George bounded to the door and knocked a rhythm simultaneously before shoving it open.

"Reheat the dinner!" Fred shouted, tossing his saddlebag next to an umbrella rack just inside the foyer. "We've got company!"

But neither of the twins' wives responded in greeting, instead there was a mix of shouts.

"Heads up!" Angelina recognized her cousin's voice instantly.

"Kurt, get back here!" another voice shouted, the same voice that gave the warning in the twins' shop, and Angelina couldn't help smirking. "Somebody stop that kid!"

"What—?" But before Wood could finish his question, a small boy with bright reddish-blonde hair came flying at them on a broomstick with exhilarated laughter. Fred jumped, but his son had inherited the ability to fly and easily evaded him.

"Shut the door!" Jasene Weasley came sprinting down the hallway, her blonde hair flying behind her.

"Quick! Before he gets outside!" Melissa's voice came again just before she appeared in an adjoining doorway.

George dove for the door, closing it just seconds before the two-year-old could get out. But it caused several things to happen at once.

Jasene, having been running in socks, collided with Fred as he made an effort for the door, making them both crash to the floor. Kurt's momentum caused him to make a sharp turn, sending the broom careening at Angelina's and Melissa's heads. The cousins dropped to the floor and the broom shot around and went toward the vaulted foyer ceiling.

Fred and Jasene scrambled to their feet, with strangled gasps. Angelina stared in horror as the small ginger lost his grip on the broom and fell.

Then Wood was in the air. With ease and speed Angelina could only admire, England's starting keeper caught Kurt and then safely returned the happy child to his mother.

"YAY!" Kurt cheered from Jasene's arms. "More! More!"

"Ha! Yeah, not on your life, kiddo," Jasene said dryly, and smiled up at Wood. "Which might be a bit longer, thanks to this handsome high-flying stranger."

"Handsome high-flying stranger?" Fred repeated, and Angelina nearly laughed to see the disgusted look on his face.

Jasene concentrated on adjusting her hold on their son, though her eyes were twinkling playfully and she wore a coy smirk. "Well if you actually introduced your guests, I wouldn't have to make up names for them."

Wood went red, but Fred soon laughed and pulled his wife close for a quick kiss. She smiled up at him, but her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. Or, rather, what was lacking in it. "Fred!"

"What?" He asked innocently with a grin.

Jasene opened her mouth once...then twice, but decided against the comment each time and just shook her head. Fred's grin broadened and he draped his arm lazily across her shoulders.

"You both know Angie," he said, waving his hand at the quidditch players. "But this is Oliver Wood—you remember me and George and Harry telling you about the Gryiffindor team?"

"No," Jasene answered blankly, but her eyes were still twinkling and Fred jabbed her lightly in the side.

"Nice save anyway," Melissa commented, then gave Angelina a speculative smirk. Angelina did her best to ignore her.

"Uh, thanks," Wood said and gave George a curious look. "You keep your brooms in an umbrella stand?"

George laughed and took the brooms from him. "I guess we can't anymore, now that Kurt and Derek are into them," he said, then turned to give Melissa a peck on the cheek before looking at her thoughtfully. "Speaking of which. Where's—?"

A loud crash came from somewhere deeper in the house.

"Oh _no_!" Melissa shouted and left the foyer.

The group chuckled. "Well, I've got to put our little troublemaker back in his highchair," Jasene said, then waved for the others to follow. "You're more than welcome to join us for dinner. Or have you eaten already?"

"Dinner sounds fine to me," Angelina said, glancing at Wood.

"Sure," he said, "we have to talk to you guys anyway."

"Really?" George asked.

"No, they just turned up at closing time to see me testing new products," Fred said, rolling his eyes as he followed his wife into the large teal room.

Angelina looked around with interest. Somehow, despite visiting the Weasleys often enough, she'd never actually been in the dining room. As Fred expanded the large maple wood table, which was surrounded by an odd assortment of chairs, she looked around with interest at the beautiful space. Large windows lined the wall across from the entrence, decorated with draped sheers, and either end of the room had a china cabinet and a sideboard unit of entirely different woods. She was surprised to find that the teal walls were actually wallpaper, which she could have sworn her cousin hated on principle. But then, it really was a very minimal patter of ivy, so maybe Melissa's tastes had allowed it to stay... for now.

George chuckled. "Yeah—Oy, Jase! I'm disappointed in the reaction!"

"Oh I'm _so_ sorry," she laughed and turned to put Kurt in one of the two strangely shaped children's chairs. "Well at least now I have proof there's a brain in there."

"Oy!" Fred shouted, grabbing his wife around the waist. An evil grin came to his face and soon Jasene was squirming as she shrieked with laughter.

"Can't you two save that for your room?" Melissa asked, appearing with a boy the same age as Kurt under her arm who was having a great time running in the air.

"Yeah!" Jasene cried between gasps. "Let go!" Then she swatted herself free and retreated through a secondary door to the kitchen, still grinning and red-faced.

Angelina followed, happy to see one of her favorite rooms in the Weasley household. If nothing else, the room definitely reflected the twins and their wives perfectly. Lime green cabinets under black marble counter-tops and shining steel appliances (which must have been the girls' influence since both had grown up in North America—and were decidedly mugglized), while the white cupboards above on the wall stretched high enough that they'd attached a rolling ladder that wrapped around the space.

Central to the room was what Jasene had called an island, but it was really just a large center storage and counter space with tall stools around three of its sides. And, really, it was the most useful spot in the room. "Need help?"

Jasene smiled. "If you want," she said pushing a large bowl of salad across the center counter-top, where enough food for an army was on display and steaming. "So what brings you out this way? Aren't you training in London?"

"Actually, it's because of something that came in the post," Angelina said.

"Oh! You got my letter then?" Jasene asked, precariously balancing a large platter of chicken, a bowl of mashed potatoes, a dish of green beans, and another bowl which held macaroni & cheese in her arms.

"Well, yes—and congratulations, I'd be honored," Angelina said, watching her warily.

"Good because turns out Melissa's pregnant too," Jasene announced, now contemplating how to take hold of the basket of bread.

"Uh. Wow," Angelina said, still fairly distracted by watching what was going on in front of her, but whatever Jasene had said would have to wait until later. "But that's actually not why I'm here."

"Huh?" Jasene asked, now somehow balancing the basket of rolls on her head.

"There was a necklace in with the post," Angelina said, still distracted by the blonde's antics. "Serafina—my teammate you met—she, uh, found it. And... well, now she's in the hospital and judging by the healers' reactions... we're thinking it was cursed."

"What?" Jasene squeaked, spinning too fast to stop the rolls from tumbling off her head. Strangely, the blonde didn't seem to notice, let alone care. She was too busy staring at Angelina in wide-eyed fear. "You—but—Mark—I thought you had your mail screened!"

"I do," Angelina assured her, setting the salad aside to take a few dishes out of the younger woman's possession before she dropped something else, then crouched down for the rolls. "The post goes through a long list of protective processes—there really should be no way that necklace could have made it into my locker."

"But it did," Jasene all but whimpered, having knelt down along side her.

Angelina looked up from the refilled bowl of rolls, aghast to find the young woman getting teary-eyed. She quickly deposited the bowl onto the central counter again and moved to help Jasene back to her feet. "Okay," she said slowly, moving her to a stool. "Enough of that. I'm fine, see?"

"But your teammate's not," Jasene said sniffling, clearly trying to hold back tears. "And now you need to get a new lock for your locker."

The quidditch player blinked, trying to decide if she should be worried or amused that Jasene was going to cry over a lock. "Jase, please, stop," she begged, leaning back against the nearest counter to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Sera's going to be fine and it's just a lock. At most I'll spend a galleon on a new one."

Jasene regarded her for a moment, then nodded but it didn't stop tears from falling. Angelina groaned into her hand.

"What's taking so—Oy!" Fred stopped mid step as he'd come strolling towards the two women, and looked back and forth between them with a frown. "What've you done to my wife?"

"Nothing!" Angelina promised, holding her hands up in surrender.

"I dropped the rolls," Jasene cried, looking rather pathetic from her seat.

"Ah," he said. A tension, that Angelina hadn't even noticed in his stance before, left Fred and he gave his wife an understanding smile before pulling her close to rest his chin atop her head.

It was a little awkward to watch them, somehow Angelina couldn't help feeling like she was invading—especially since she was fairly sure that the tears were her fault. But the blonde pulled back from Fred fairly quickly and wiped at her eyes, giving Angelina a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I've been really weepy this time around."

Angelina looked at her quizzically for a moment, then sighed. "Oh, right—you're pregnant."

For a moment the couple stared at her, as though astounded by this revelation, then both slowly started laughing until they were in hysterics. Jasene placed a hand on her fairly protruding middle and Fred eventually leaned down to the bump to say, "She's right son! You're not making enough commotion for a Weasley!"

"Hey!" Jasene yelped, messing up his hair before he straightened back up again, but she was smiling as she wiped her eyes. "Who says it's a boy? And I don't need any more commotion, thank you ever _so_ kindly."

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked, giving her a sidelong hug. "You've been doing great compared to Brandon's time around."

"Not that," Jasene said, then gestured to Angelina. "We have to help Angelina find out who got past Mark's security. And her teammate... her teammate's... in the hospital!"

Without warning, the blonde was in tears again, hiding her face in Fred's shirt. Fred, for his part, looked entirely confused for a moment before looking to Angelina for some form of reassurance or clarification.

Angelina could feel her face growing warmer by the second. And before long she was spilling out details—about the fanatic letters and crazy fans and would-be stalkers—everything that led up to today and the necklace. "But somehow it ended up in my letters," she concluded. "_After_ I put them in my locker."

"They put it _in _your locker?" Fred repeated, looking slightly shell-shocked.

"Someone _WHAT_?"

All three jumped at the shout, whirling around to face the far side of the room where Angelina's cousin appeared in the diningroom doorway with speed that made her dark hair fly wildly. Military-brat to the bone and further, Melissa Stonewood-Weasley was definitely a fearsome sight—something that Angelina had always enjoyed about her cousin, but somehow the slightly alarmed faces of George and Wood appearing behind her made her look all the more intimidating.

"What's all this about packages actually getting through?" Melissa demanded, her hands on her hips.

Angelina looked to Wood and he gave her a sheepish shrug. George caught the exchange and smirked. "Hey, you're the one who left her with him."

Melissa shot him a glare, but it effectively brought a smile of her own to Angelina's face.

"We don't know how, but a cursed necklace got into my post," she said again.

"Angelina had said that something like this might have happened to Katie," Wood added, glancing at each of the twins.

"The year after we graduated," Angelina explained. "You said there were a lot of attempts on Dumbledore's life."

Wood gave her surprised look, but he kept silent. Melissa's expression softened a little to a thoughtful frown and she took the seat next to Jasene, absently summoning plates and utensils to the counter-top. Pulling herself together, Jasene's hostess nature kicked in and she began dishing up plates and handing them around the room.

Meanwhile, the twins looked at each other, then slowly nodded. "Yeah, something like that did happen to Katie," Fred told them as he accepted his plate, looking more serious than Angelina was used to. "First it was her, then it was Ron, right?"

George nodded. "Brutal year that was," he said, shaking his head and took a seat at the central counter.

"Granted you had good stuff in there too," Fred pointed out, after swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Bill and Fleur getting married then having their daughter—."

"And you and Jase," George said, giving his brother a lopsided grin. Jasene went pink and launched a green bean at him, which hit him squarely in the forehead.

"Point at hand, guys," Melissa said firmly, as George reached for the mashed potatoes. "I'm guessing you want to know how they helped Katie?"

Wood and Angelina nodded. Their hosts exchanged glances.

"We heard about Katie the day after she was sent to St. Mungo's," Fred said after a moment. "Made a quick run over there, but she was still down for the count."

"Came round while we were there, though," George pointed out.

"Do you know what brought her to?" Wood asked.

"I did," Jasene said slowly, looking fairly uncomfortable.

"You?" Wood and Angelina looked at each other in confusion.

"I'm... I used to be a healer," Jasene explained.

Angelina nodded, that made sense—the twins would need a healer around with all the experimenting they did. And the mini-Weasleys were probably a handful.

"Saved my life not too long ago," Fred said, draping an arm across his wife's shoulders and setting his plate on the counter.

Jasene gave a strange sort of sniff. "Sure, at a price."

Angelina studied the darkening expression on the younger woman's face. She'd never heard of healers having to do any form of trade to help someone. Jasene forced a shakey smile back onto her face. "I'll take a trip to St. Mungo's and see if there's anything I can do."

A tense moment passed before a demanding shout came from the diningroom. Jasene leapt from her seat. "Blast. We forgot the boys."

The others watched her go, then a split second later Melissa went rushing after her as fast as possible and leaving them in a thoughtful silence. As the sound of the toddlers babbling reached their ears, Wood looked at the twins.

"What was she talking about?" he asked. "What happened?"

George's expression grew darkly serious. Fred, though, seemed to grow up in a matter of seconds. He put down his fork and folded his hands, then looked at them with eyes that actually made Angelina think she might not want to know.

"Its probably safer for you if you don't know," he said.

"Safer for us?" Angelina echoed. "What—."

"Yeah, we were pretty high risk for a while," George said, visibly forcing the smile to stay on his face. "We had to camp out at Jase's brother's house."

"In America?" Angelina asked, raising an eyebrow. "What about the store?"

Fred smirked. "Not Nathan—he's on assignment infiltrating some secret community in Normandy anyway," he said. "Their older brother, Greg, still lives in their old house—just out of Ambleside or somewhere like that. Really big place, apparently their parents were into experimenting too."

"We just got back about a week ago, actually," George said

"It's a good timing, really," Melissa commented as she rejoined them with Derek and Kurt floating along in their highchairs. "A week different and you might not have found us."

Fred glanced behind his sister-in-law, then frowned at her. "Where's—?"

"Went up to Brandon," Melissa answered easily enough, now moving portions of macaroni onto the boys' plates. The toddlers gave shouts of delight and plunged in with their tiny plastic spoons, which were clearly not going to be used for long.

Angelina took a step further into the kitchen, away from the boys. When she looked up, Melissa's eyes met her and a nearly unperceivable smirk came to her face. But just as quickly the smirk was gone and the general's daughter was back in full force. "So," Melissa said, bitting off the end of a green bean. "Who has access to the locker rooms?"

Wood and Angelina glanced at each other over their half eaten plates of food. "Anyone with access to that floor," Wood said after a while. "The door's unlocked when we're on the pitch—or at least I've never seen it locked."

As he talked, Angelina slowly shook her head, frowning as she pulled her thoughts together. "It's our guards," she said, rubbing her wrist, actually feeling as though her equipment was still attached. "There's a security protocol—you have to be wearing a guard on your forearm in order to even touch the door."

"Really?" George asked around a fork full of food, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "Neat trick. When'd they put that in?"

"I don't know,"Angelina said, shrugging helplessly. "A week or two after Mike got spooked."

"By what? Those fan letters?" Wood asked.

"Oh she get's more than just plain fan-letters," Fred assured him.

"So just after we last saw you," Melissa said, focused on her cousin.

"Maybe two weeks later," Angelina said with a nod.

"Two weeks later?" Wood repeated, frowning at Angelina. "Jasene's letter said that she hadn't seen you since June."

The cousins exchanged glances. "I met up with her for lunch on July first," Melissa said. "The week before we were forced underground. Dad was in from Boston and overheard me talking to Angie about the, uh, fan problem and decided to be part of protection detail. So Ange and Mike met us at a pub on Regent to discuss options."

"Mike?" Wood repeated. "As in—?"

"Smithers, yeah," Melissa said. "Dad knew him from somewhere, that's how Ange got out from under that last dipstick."

"Last—?"

"Oh what's-his-face. Uh—."

"Preston Clark," Angelina said, somehow managing to keep from grimacing though not rolling her eyes. "My first agent. He couldn't do anything, I mean, he was great in trying for the first few weeks, but I got onto the _Tutshill Tornados_ on luck. I met Merwyn Finwick at a pub and I basically tried out for the team on a bet."

"Well I'm impressed," George said, glancing at his twin. Fred nodded in agreement, but also gave Angelina an expression that told her he wasn't entirely surprised.

She wrinkled her nose at him, but smiled. "I'm really glad Uncle Dom recommended Mike."

"Plus he's the best protective agent there is," Melissa said, looking torn between pride and amusement. "Practically paranoid."

"I've heard," Wood said with a nod. He gave Angelina a side glance, instantly the previous night came to her mind and she smirked.

"He's been taking every precaution," Melissa continued, frowning in thought. "Especially after Jordan's article back in June."

"'_The Tricks of Chasing Chasers,'_" Fred recited, shaking his head.

Angelina frowned. For a very short year after school she hadn't had to deal with Lee Jordan. Then, as soon as she was credited with saving a game against the _Montrose Magpies_ and her picture got into a very small corner of the Daily Prophet, the world exploded and Jordan was back as the thorn in her side.

"You know, I remember that one," Wood said conversationally after a moment.

That made Angelina's eyebrows shoot up, but no one appeared to notice as they were all nodding in acknowledgment of the article.

"And then the crazies came,"Melissa groaned, shifting to hold the small of her back.

"Which happens," Wood said with a nod.

"But not always to this caliber," George pointed out, getting up to work as his wife's backrest. "I mean, blokes trying to woo by saying they're watching her every move."

"And death threats," Fred added.

"Okay, thanks for the recap," Angelina said loudly. Of everything they needed to go over tonight, her own history wasn't one of her choice topics.

"Threats?" Wood repeated.

"Yeah, 'I'll kill you' or 'I'll kill him' or 'I'll kill her'," Fred said as he took a sip of his drink. "Some even got to the point of sabotage."

"Hence Mike," Melissa added, clearly enjoying using her husband as a cushion.

George probably would have added to it, but a glare from Angelina shut him up and he cleared his throat as an unspoken signal to his brother and wife not to continue. Each of them gave her sheepish smiles, except Wood. He was staring at her.

She looked at him and somehow found herself embarrassed as well as surprised by the shock and concern pooling in his maple syrup eyes. Angelina pulled her eyes away, finding the gaze a little too uncomfortable to meet.

"Could I pull you away for a moment?" he asked slowly. "I think there might be some things we need to discuss."

_**A/N:**__ YEESH! That took long enough! I mean seriously, holy cow! Hey guys, look, I'm still alive! Sorry it took so long to actually get this part up. I've had the pieces sitting in front of me, but then I couldn't make them fit. That and I've been terrified about how the twins and their wives are portrayed—until it occurred to me that this isn't about them, it's about Angelina and Wood and thus I don't need to go into depth on Melissa or Jase. And since both are pregnant, I can over animate them ^_^ Let me know what you think! I apologize for everything that I may have screwed up._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Moments after Wood's suggestion, Angelina found herself alone with her teammate on the Weasleys' back patio—a really great looking space with a firepit and surrounding seats made of stone before it let out onto the large grassy space that stretched into the surrounding wooded area. It really was picturesque. Even though they hadn't yet, or at least not to her knowledge, Angelina couldn't wait for the twins to actually host a party out here. Maybe when the war ended.

Not too far from the firepit, in the grass under a tree, there was a metal gliding bench and that's where Wood ended up sitting. Feeling strangely self-conscious, Angelina joined him. Wood took a moment and she could practically see him forming his questions. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, before he looked over at her.

"Why didn't you tell us that it was this bad?" he asked. "We're a team. Even if we all play on different teams once this ends—we still need to trust each other."

"Its not about trust, Oliver," Angelina assured him. "I trust all of you."

"Then what is it?" he asked.

Angelina looked down at her hands, absently pushing the bench to start moving. "I'm... I'm not..." She took a deep breath and tried again. "I don't want to be the weak one. "

"What?" Wood asked, a tone of genuine surprise in his voice.

"I don't want to be the weak one," she repeated, a deeply rooted feeling of self-loathing started to rise. It wasn't unexpected, even if it was entirely unwelcome and only served to fuel the agitated tone in her voice. "The one vulnerable enough that she needs protecting. All the new precautions-the new spells, the new check points, the security-all of the irritation at the NQA. It's all because of me, okay? All because I can't take care of myself. Because I was complete rubbish in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I doubt you were that bad," Wood said gently. "And its not all because of you."

"Yes it is," she snapped and got to her feet to pace, not wanting to be molly-coddled. "It is! Even with us being—what?—four years into a war, they didn't take these precautions until now! And do you know how bad that feels? How awful I feel every time someone complains about the hassle involved in getting into the building? To have to do those bloody press conferences and meet and greets—and get asked by a fan why I haven't responded to their letter or if I'd gotten a picture they'd drawn, and I have no idea what they're talking about."

As she vented her long since pent up anxieties, Angelina suddenly realized something. She could see why Gwenog was tempted to quit. Why Serafina ran home every other weekend.

Then her eyes fell on Wood again. If nothing else he'd gained the patience of a saint compared to his schoolboy self. Though, when she thought about it she could remember several times when she'd needed to "freak out" (as Melissa put it) or panic about OWLS and he'd been the one to listen to her. Granted, that was usually because she'd be ranting on the quidditch pitch. And it hadn't been often, but it had been enough.

He'd never worn this expression, though. This dulled look of pain, as though her words were hitting too close to home. It was similar to that strange look he'd given her at the restaurant. And, strangely, it scared her.

It took her a moment to realize that she'd trailed off mid sentence and she fought back the blush she felt rising in her cheeks as she peered at his face. "Wood?"

At the suddenly gentle tone, Oliver Wood looked up to meet her gaze. "It's not just you," he said softly, his voice low in a rumble. "Some of us have had to step up protection since we got on the team too."

Her blush deepened and she reclaimed her spot on the bench. She hadn't fully though that someone else might be getting stalked too. And suddenly she couldn't fathom why she'd ever thought she was alone in this experience. "Sorry."

Wood huffed a laugh and shook his head, his own coloring hidden by the shadows from the light behind them. "Don't be," he said and flashed her a smile. "I've felt the same way before. Plus, if you can't get it out of your system it'll effect your game."

Angelina gave a snort of a laugh and bumped her shoulder into his, smiling gratefully at the show of his quidditch attitude. He chuckled and bumped her shoulder back.

"You two done out here?" Melissa's voice asked and they looked up to see her smiling from the doorway, arms folded atop her belly. "Or shall I send the twins out?"

"No, no, no," Angelina said quickly.

"Not by any means," Wood agreed with a laugh.

"Then hurry up!" Melissa said, turning to go back inside. "Or I'll send them out anyway!"

Angelina laughed and got to her feet, then turned to hold out her hand to Wood. "C'mon," she said. "Knowing Melissa, she'll still probably send them out just to see what'd happen."

Wood chuckled and let her pull him to his feet, but gripped her hand more firmly as she started to pull away. "Wait."

Angelina spun to look at him quizzically, her cheeks turning a shade or two in color at the deep emotion in his eyes. "What?"

He tried to respond a few times, but he continually came up short. Angelina raised an eyebrow at him and started to pull away again, but Wood held ever so slightly tighter. "Don't... Don't think that you have to deal with it all alone, Lina," he said finally. "You know you can still count on me, right?"

What color had risen to her cheeks at his touch was nothing compared to the burning she felt in her face now. Oliver Wood wanted to be there for her. Yeah, it could have been as a friend, but he'd also called her 'Lina.' Not 'Ange.' Not 'Angel.' And somehow, through that Scottish brogue, it sounded beautiful to her ears.

Slowly, realizing that he was waiting for an answer, Angelina dragged her wits back together and nodded. He gave her a shy sort of smile, then got to his feet as well and followed her back to the house. Where they promptly found Jasene scrubbing a dish as though she was trying to wear a hole in it while Melissa watched from across the kitchen island. Only George Weasley of the Weasley boys was present.

"Erm... did we miss something?" Angelina asked, looking from her cousin and George to her friend.

"No, Derek and Kurt had to go to bed," Melissa reported, eating some of the remaining macaroni. "Oh, and the twins were arguing inventing space."

"In my defense, I was merely watching," George announced, reaching around from behind her for another dinner roll.

Melissa rolled her eyes. "As if that's helpful. I don't think Fred's learned that right now is bad timing for that."

"Ah." Angelina and Wood exchanged glances, then Angelina rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"He's off in the living room now," George said around a mouthful of bread. "Setting up so we can Floo St Mungo's."

"Yeah," Melissa said, making a face as she tilted her head back to look up at him. "How about you and Oliver go make sure he doesn't set fire to the whole room?"

"Living room?" Oliver repeated.

"Front parlor," Angelina said.

"Just follow the smell of furniture burning," Jasene said, giving him a smile, even though she still looked agitated.

Wood smirked. "I think I can manage."

"You over estimate him, Jase," George said, dusting off his hands behind his wife, which made Melissa shake out her hair suspiciously. "He'd need at least twelve more minutes and some bellroot powder to light the room."

Jasene looked over her shoulder to stick out her tongue, but smirked.

"Oh get going," Melissa said, giving George a push. "We're going to discuss ideas for Angelina's problem."

"Oh?" The men stopped again.

"Yes, what do we do?" Jasene asked, promptly dropping the dish into the sink-full of water and turning to lean against the counter. "Hire a bodyguard?"

George let out a snort of disbelief at the idea of his old teammate needing a guard. To which, Jasene flicked some of the soap bubbles on her fingers at him.

"It's an idea," Melissa said, snatching up a green bean. "We'd never find an Auror who'd be able to cover the whole NQA, though. They're stretched thin as it is."

"What about—no, never mind," Jasene stopped her suggestion and turned back to the dishes. "Bad idea even if she would agree to it."

Angelina looked at her skeptically. "Who?"

"Her sister," Melissa said with a smirk. "Tabitha Porter was top of our school's defensive tactics for about three years running."

"Slight psycho," George warned, still stopping to pick at food as he made to join Wood.

Jasene snorted. "Look who's talking!"

"Defensive—oh, battles. Right," Angelina said, nodding as she remembered her cousin's continual reports about training rooms and how Dragontongues put their student's Defense Against the Dark Arts education into practice. Slightly disturbing, but it had proved to be effective when the school had to fend off an attack when Melissa and Jasene were sixteen.

"Honestly, the best person would be me," Melissa said after a moment.

"Excuse me?" George demanded, pausing as he'd been about to leave the girls to their plotting.

"Me," Melissa said as though it were plain as day. "I'd be the best option."

"No," George said firmly. "Not by any means."

"Oh shut up, I would so," Melissa said, folding her arms. "I could keep up with her, I've got combat training, I could go everywhere she goes-."

"I won't—."

"And I'm her cousin," Melissa continued over George's protest.

"You're pregnant!"

"Think about it," Melissa said firmly, "who has better reason to be near her?"

"Better or not, you're not doing it," he informed her.

"Oliver would you get him out of here? He's not helping," Jasene said sweetly with a bemused smirk.

"Uh..." Wood looked between the married couple uncomfortably for a moment, then began pulling at George, whom refused to move. He glanced at Angelina questioningly and something in his expression hinted at a mischievous thought. So she smiled back at him. Breaking into his own lop-sided smile, Wood used his keeper build to the best of his ability and bodily hauled the taller man out of the room like he hadn't done in years.

Melissa gave an evil little smile as she watched her husband go. Jasene and Angelina flat out laughed as the Weasley twin, still shouting objections, was half dragged down the hall.

"You're not serious, right?"Angelina asked as George's complaints were muffled by a closing door.

"About actually being bodyguard right now?" Melissa snorted a laugh. "No, even though it is true. I don't care what George thinks about it," she said. "It's Dad and Uncle Ross that I'd be worried about coming to yell at me."

Angelina laughed and nodded in agreement. There was no doubt in her mind that both her father and Melissa's would be up in arms to agree with George Weasley on this one. But that thought in itself was kind of a jarring realization of the times. "You two really have the weirdest effects on the twins," she told them. "Sometimes they're so much more... I dunno—grown up I guess."

Melissa and Jasene exchanged thoughtful looks, then each girl smirked. "Well, I suppose we all have grown up," Jasene said. "But, yeah, there are some times when Fred and I fight when, afterwards, we kinda just sit there wondering at how we started sounding like our parents—or Percy."

Angelina and Melissa burst into laughter, but Melissa nodded. "George has moments when he's pretty protective," she admitted. "Like the one you just saw... you know, you're right. It's really weird."

"Its Vol—er—I mean, You-Know-Who's fault," Jasene said, making a face. "Stupid title."

"You'd have gotten along well with McGonnagal," Angelina informed her.

Jasene smiled. "I wish she'd been my professor. She's a lot more tricky than I thought she'd be."

"Yeah, Fred's letters to you made her sound dull as powder," Melissa agreed.

"Well, dullness depends on the powder," Jasene said with a shrug, then clasped her hands to her head. "Ack! This is what living with the twins has done to me! That's it. Paint war, starting tomorrow."

Angelina raised an eyebrow at her, but Melissa started laughing and had a familiar (and mildly dangerous) gleam to her eye.

"Oi!" one of the twins shouted down the hall. "The bell doth tole nine or so, are you joining us for Des or not?"

"Yeah, yeah. We're coming!" Jasene shouted back, scooping up a jar shaped like a strange blue box, which she promptly took off the lid of and retrieved a cookie.

"If nothing else, maybe they'll know something we don't," Melissa sighed with a shrug and linked arms with her cousin. Angelina gave her a smile, though she doubted it, and the pair followed their friend to find the men.

Upon entering the warm and welcoming room, where the men were occupying separate pieces of furniture and the cousins happily joined George on the couch, the fireplace roared to life and the coughing image of a woman's round face shook her head in the dancing flames.

"Ok, I know you lot are abnormal," the woman choked out, "but since you were waiting for me, you could have at least paid more attention to the fire rather than letting it crackle out."

"We heard that the necklace found its way back to St. Mungos," Jasene said, depositing the cookie jar on the coffee table and joining Fred by the hearth.

The face in the fire instantly frowned. "Yeah," Desirae said after a moment. "Darn thing's been locked away so far as I know now."

"Good," Fred chimed in. "Maybe this time it'll actually get destroyed."

Desiere nodded in agreement, then her eyes narrowed suspiciously at them. "You're asking after the girl who got brought in with it."

Jasene nodded.

"Ok, look, gem-kid," Desiree said, sounding exhausted and her hand became visible in the flames to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I appreciate all of the interfering you and your ginger like to do, but I'm _actually_ a healer. Let me do my job, alright? If she's not up to your standards after we've tried everything we can do, then you can come in. Got it?"

Jasene made a face. "Des, I'm not trying to step on toes, I'm just-."

"A gem-kid. Yeah I know," Desiree said.

"That's not what I-."

"Look, it's going to be a long night here," Desiree said, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice. "Could you please nag me tomorrow?"

A determined look came to the blonde's face, but she smiled in an ill-boding politeness. "Bright and early and in person."

"Fine—Wait. What?"

"Good night, Des!" Jasene said in a sing-songy voice, with her continuing smile as she doused the fire with water, effectively ending the floo-chat.

Angelina blinked at the young woman who was busily dusting soot off her hands. "Uh," Wood glanced at her, then at Jasene. "You two are friends?"

"Hmm?" Jasene looked up. For a moment she seemed completely unaware of what he was talking about, then she laughed. "Oh! Yeah, we're that special kind of friends where sometimes I wish we were quidditch players."

"Why?" Angelina asked.

"So that I could hit her with a bat and get away with it," Jasene said, sounding so innocent and well-meaning that it took the real quidditch players a moment or two of staring, and eventually Fred's mischievous smirk, to start laughing. And they were quickly joined by the rest of the room.

"Hate to break it to you, Jase," Angelina said, grinning. "But even in quidditch, you can't always get away with it."

"Drat," Jasene said. "Guess that leaves potioned baked goods."

"Jase!" George yelped around a mouthful of cookie.

"Oh come on," Jasene said laughing as Fred pulled her to her feet. "You've lived with me for how many years now and you can't tell when I'm joking?"

"Disturbing sense of humor," George muttered around yet another cookie and pretending to shudder, though he smirked.

"Violence," Melissa said with an ironic smile, stealing away George's cookie to nibble it herself. "It's in her blood."

"What?" Angelina asked, thinking her cousin might have lost a few levels of sanity since she married George.

"She and Nathan are Ares kids," Melissa explained, now trying to keep George from steeling the cookie back. "Fire sign for the God of war to the Greeks."

"Kids?" Jasene repeated. "We're only a few months younger than you!"

"Nearly a year," Melissa agreed, making a face at her friend.

"Not even!" Jasene objected, but anything else she might have said was interrupted by her reaction to Fred pulling her backwards onto the love-seat (that being a loud squeak).

Angelina smirked as the rest of her friends laughed. She couldn't help glancing at Wood, sitting in the rocking chair only a few feet away. He was happy, really enjoying himself. It was strange to think that it was an expression she hadn't seen in a while. Or well, no, that wasn't right. He'd been that way when they'd gone for dinner yesterday. But the rest of the time, now that she thought about it, he always looked like he was lacking something.

Now though, as Fred and George launched into the tale of some insane endeavor or another, he was more at home than ever. And she really rather liked seeing him so relaxed. He even shared a few stories of his early days at Hogwarts, and then a few of Fred and George as first years to amuse Jasene and Melissa.

It was nearly half past midnight when the Quidditch players realized that they needed to get back to London. Which, of course, brought complaints and suggestions that they just stay the night, but there was practice tomorrow and the Weasleys had kids now. So the pair was given arm-loads of left-overs and a few new inventions.

"You're always welcome here," Melissa announced.

Jasene nodded. "That goes for you too-do you prefer 'Oliver' or 'Wood'?"

"Uh, either's fine," the scotsman said. "I guess I'm called Wood mostly."

"Oliver it is!" Melissa said, grinning as her husband and his twin rolled their eyes, sending Jasene into giggles.

Angelina smirked and her cousin pushed to her feet to follow them to the door, leaving Jasene with Fred and George as the three delved into a conspiring huddle.

"Let us know what's going on," Melissa told her, a serious gleam in those turquoise eyes. "I want to know the second something happens, you understand?"

"Yes, Mum," Angelina said, rolling her eyes, which earned her an elbow to the ribs.

"You'd better, or I'm coming over there to level a few punches," Melissa threatened as they got to the door.

Angelina raised an eyebrow at her and Melissa rolled her eyes, folding her arms in front of her. "Oh come on," she groused. "Do you really think that the boys'll let us do anything? Fred practically locked Jase in a closet when she was pregnant with Brandon."

"Correction," the girl in question called from the couch. "He _did_ lock me in there!"

"I had her brothers as backup on that one," Fred announced as Angelina glanced back into the room with a smirk.

"And we'll be happy to repeat it," George volunteered. "We'll even make sure you're at opposite corners of the house."

"I hate you both," Jasene informed them.

"Yeah, baby number three is perfect evidence for that," George teased only to get a pillow to the face.

Melissa rolled her eyes again and turned to give her cousin a hug. "And you better come visit here more," she said. "With all the protections we've got on on the place, we're one notch down from Hogwarts."

Angelina didn't doubt that, even if it wasn't actually supposed to be a protection, she had full faith that the Twins' shop products would be enough to scare half of the country away-if anyone outside the family knew where they lived that is. "I'll try."

"No, you will," Melissa enforced. "There is no 'try'."

"Yoda!" Jasene chirped from the living room.

"What?" Oliver asked, glancing back towards her in confusion.

"Don't worry about it, you'll be forced to find out eventually," George assured him, arriving with their coats and scarves, which he doled out before slinging an arm over Melissa's shoulders.

"Like this Friday!" Jasene suggested.

Angelina smiled. That girl loved playing hostess just a little too much. Or, more so, mother-hen. "We'll see what we can do."

"You too, Wood!" Fred cheered, making his wife giggle.

Wood smirked at the Weasleys in front of them and nodded. Angelina gave her cousin a grin, then lightly hit George in the arm and turned to follow Wood out into the night air.

"That was...interesting," Wood said once they were several paces down the driveway.

"Anything close to what you were expecting?" Angelina asked with a laugh.

He glanced back at the house for a moment, then turned back to her with a smile. "I don't know," he said. "I'm not sure what I was expecting. A floating house maybe."

"Well, Jasene's brother lives in a treehouse," Angelina said. "I doubt Fred would really want a home that close a resemblance to his brother-in-law's place."

"Touche," Wood said, nodding in agreement. "Well, the girls are a nice balance to them, I think."

Angelina nodded. "They are," she agreed. "And I'm kinda glad it's not me, to be honest. I think I'd try to kill George a few too many times to be considered healthy. Not to say Melissa doesn't want to now and again."

Wood laughed and Angelina broke into a large grin. She had thought about it, many times actually. What would have happened if she'd stayed with George. It just hadn't felt right. They were good friends and teammates, but... to have what Melissa has? She wasn't sure she could have done it. Especially that soon after school.

She loved the twins, she did, but she really loved her life right now. Or, well, mostly.

"Oi! Ange! Wood! Wait up!"

Both Quidditch players turned to see the twins jogging after them down the drive.

"What's—?"

"Take these," Fred said, interrupting Angelina's question as he forced two rings into her hand. "They have dial faceplates—turn it to the left if you're in trouble, to the right if you're responding to someone else's distress. Your ring sends off purple to ours. His shows up as orange. In distress blinks, responding is a steady glow."

Angelina glanced at Wood as he picked the larger one from her hand to examine it, leaving the smaller ring. It was a simple band, but it had a flat circular top that stuck out just barely the width of parchment with the imprint of the moon on it.

"How on earth did you think of these?" Angelina asked, turning the ring over in her hand.

"Well, you know Jase and Melissa aren't British, right?" George asked.

Wood and Angelina nodded. Even if she wasn't related to one of the aforementioned witches, their accents were kind of obvious.

"Long story short," Fred continued with his sly grin. "They watch too many of those—what do they call them? Muggle pictures?"

"Movies," George corrected. "Mostly ones about somebody getting chased by people and having all these bizarre things to get away."

"Sounds strange," Wood admitted, smirking at George's enthusiastic infomercial.

"They are," Fred admitted. "But kind of amazing that they're doing things without magic."

"Come by for the girls' party in two weeks and we'll show you what we mean," George said to the confused looks on their faces.

"Okay," Angelina said slowly. "But why—?"

"Melissa and Jasene are already panicking," Fred said, smirking.

"Can't say I fully blame them though," George admitted.

She sighed. "You—."

"Whoever this guy is," Fred continued in a manner that was something between being brotherly and fatherly, "he's not playing around, Ange."

"I know—."

"And you might want to refresh yourself on those security spells from sixth year," he added.

"Fine," she said, sighing in irritation. "If I can fi—."

"Chapters seven, thirteen, and forty-three are best," he supplied.

"Why do—?"

"We practically had to memorize them when Kurt was born," he said.

"Right. What if—?"

"Or you could just move in here," he offered. "I'm sure Jase and Melissa won't mind."

"Yeah su—."

"And that way we could be your beaters again," he said, elbowing his brother with a mischievous glint to his eyes.

But that did it, and Angelina felt her temper flare.

"Fred-no!" she snapped as he started to open his mouth again. "Stop interrupting me or I will hex you!"

So instead the ginger just grinned at her in that malevolent way that usually bespoke trouble, his twin looking like his mirror image. That affirmed it, Angelina thought. If she'd stayed with him, she'd probably have killed him.

"Look. I appreciate all your help," she said after a calming breath. "But you don't need to worry about me. I can handle it. And the NQA has already upped security. And even if they slip, I have every faith that Mike will continue to hover like an over-protective bat."

"And the rest of the team," Wood put in softly.

Angelina felt a blush flare up in her cheeks, suddenly make her feel far too warm in the cool air. "Right," she said quickly. "Exactly."

Fred and George exchanged glances, then looked at her, each with a suggestive eyebrow raised. She shot them a warning glare as she felt her blush get darker.

"Well," Fred said, yawning largely before draping an arm over his brother's shoulder. "We've got work in the morning, and you've got sport. So I guess we'll just have to see you in, what? Three days?"

"Three days?" Wood repeated, sharing a confused glance with Angelina.

"Yeah," George said, with a grin and a nod. "You two are coming over for dinner and a movie."

"If we can," Angelina reminded them.

Fred laughed and shook his head. "You're coming."

"Because if you don't come on your own," George said, smirking.

"Our wives will have us fetch you," Fred said.

"And that could be messy," George forewarned.

"I don't doubt it," Angelina groaned at their conspiratorial expressions and turned to lead the way down the rest of the drive.

oOoOo

"You didn't have to walk me back, you know," Angelina said, smirking at Wood as they climbed the last steps to her apartment.

"I didn't?" he asked, looking at her with wide eyes. "Well you could've told me that on the first floor!"

Angelina's jaw dropped at the comment but when she saw the teasing grin on his face, she elbowed him in the ribs. Making him chuckle.

"Well," he said, stopping next to her on the landing. "This has been an exciting evening."

"Exciting?" Angelina repeated as she fished around in her purse for her keys. "Well that's one word to describe it."

"I'm glad we got to see the twins' family," he said, smiling absently at the wall.

"Yeah, you might be the reason Kurt wasn't rushed to St. Mungos," Angelina said with a smirk.

"All in a day's work," Wood said, posing heroically.

Angelina chuckled and shook her head. Then she looked at him again, unsure of how she felt about him right now. Comforted? Free? Whole.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said quickly, an automatic response, and looked down at the doorknob as she fought down the need to blush for the umpteenth time this evening.

"Okay," Wood said slowly, an awkward tone to his voice. "Erm... Well, I guess... I'll see you at the pitch tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, turning back to smile at him again.

He looked a little relieved when he smiled back and gave her a little salute, then started lumbering down the stairs.

"Hey, Wo—Oliver?"

The use of his first name must have been what made him stagger to a stop, and he spun to face her curiously. "Yeah?"

"Just... thanks," she said. "For, uh, for taking care of Serfina and for coming with me to Fred and George's. And... everything."

For a moment he kind of just looked at her with a strange expression on his face. And she was beginning to think that maybe she hadn't conveyed the deeper meaning of what she'd said. But then he gave her a serious nod. "Of course."

Then he turned and continued down to the landing, where he turned and vanished from sight.

_**A/N:**__ Well. Sorry this took so long. I'm sure there's a long list of why I've been taking so long, but I honestly can't remember much of any of it. *shrugs* Uh. Well, hopefully you don't hate Jase and Melissa too much, they just have very proactive personalities. *shrugs again* But at least it's a chapter right! I hope there's not too many errors, I was really kinda just trying to get through it without having too much ADD. *sweatdrop* As always, I'd love to year from you ^_^_


	9. Chapter 9

The next few days were long and stressful. With one of their starting chasers out of commission and protocols already heightened for what most people believed were "very vague" reasons, the press demanded a conference. Which Angelina really had no patience for. But then, it looked like the rest of the team didn't either.

Question after question was shouted around the room, thank all sanity for Liam Barselswitch. The head of the NQA was able to field most of the questions and keep at least a little bit of order among the insanity. Which ran for five hours, with only a handful of questions that needed to be answered by the team.

"No," Barselswitch announced as he began drawing the conference to a close. "It is not with in the Association's intentions to find a replacement for Miss Desult at this time. No more questions, please. Our team has a match coming up against Mongolia in eight days and I'm sure our captain is anxious to get everyone back to the field."

"One more!" Someone shouted as the room broke into a clamoring protest. "Miss Johnson! Is it true that Serafina Desult was injured while carrying post marked to you?"

Angelina's stomach twisted. How had they found that out? Only a handful of people knew that piece of information and she'd been certain they'd never tell. She glanced down the table at Wood, he looking at her just as tentatively. Clearing her throat a little, Angelina spoke into her wand with an attempt at a smile as she searched to find the man who'd asked the question.

"She had been carrying my post, yes," Angelina said calmly. "But we don't know if it was actually part of what had been for me. Thank you."

With that, and a quick glance at Gwenog (who nodded in agreement that they were done here), Angelina pushed back from the table. Instantly her teammates followed her example, all of them rising to their feet even as the reporters demanded to know more.

"So if the parcel was in your post," the same voice called over all others again, drawing attention to the head of dreadlocks that stood towards the back of the room and suddenly the voice was all too familiar. "Wouldn't that mean the item in question was meant for you?"

Angelina felt the color drain from her face as the room burst with noise again. More reporters were demanding to know whether this was even a possible scenario? Whether she was going to keep competing if it was putting her teammates in danger? Would the UK step down from the World Cup because of this?

England's finest chance to compete for the cup remained quiet as Barselswitch tried to regain order. Some of the team members looking to each other helplessly. Others were glaring at the over-zealous press. Wood had protectively put a hand on her elbow. But Angelina remained starting at the man who spurred the question, locked on that unpleasantly familiar face and wishing him ill.

Lee Jordan.

oOoOo

"So these friends of your's," Gwenog said, coming to sit with Angelina on the locker room bench later that day as the team prepared themselves to go home after a long and frustrating practice. "You really think they can help Serafina?"

"Yeah," Angelina said, nodding as she pulled at her shin-guards. "I think they can. And the healers said it wasn't as serious as it could have been."

"Well that's good," Iradessa said, sighing with relief, already pulling on her coat. "Will she be able to play against Mongolia?"

Angelina shrugged, growing more and more frustrated as each of her teammates seemed to have her pegged as the all-knowing one when it came to Seraphina's condition. Which made no sense to her. She barely knew anything about what curse was on that necklace. And there was a strange feeling in her gut that Melissa, Jasene, and the twins were hiding something from them. Wood hadn't commented on it, but she could read the thoughtful expression on his face when he didn't know she was watching. It was the same one he used to get during school, when he suspected another team to be up to something. Particularly the Slytherin team.

"You heading to St. Mungo's next?" Marian asked.

Angelina shook her head, only just putting the shin-guards beside her on the bench. "I don't know," she said. "Mike's not thrilled with how the press went."

Gwenog let out a dry laugh. "Who is?" she grumbled in agreement, but clapped Angelina's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. "No worries, I'll head over. My husband's not getting here for an hour anyway."

"I wish I could go too," Iridessa said, about ready to bolt even with her jacket still open. "But, my sister's already going to murder me for being late. If Sera's been brought round, tell her we miss her."

"Yeah, cuz playing with McLaggin as seeker is like asking a monkey to mix liquid luck," Brad's voice shouted from the men's side even as Iridessa disappeared out the door. The remaining teammates chuckled. It was no secret that Kilroy McLaggin, who was barely a year out of school, wasn't ready for the World Cup level competitions. How he'd gotten onto the reserve team in the first place was a question none of the starting team could fathom.

More jibes flew around the dressing room-some about McLaggin, some about other teams (Wasps and Arrows again), and even some about reporters-as the team slowly dispersed. It wasn't long before Angelina pulled on her coat and strode out to the lift. But her mind was elsewhere. Loud and clear, over and over, she continued to hear Jordan's questions. And one blaring thought.

Had Serafina's situation been her fault?

"Lina? You okay?"

Wood's question broke through the silent corridor like a knife, bringing her abruptly back to the present but not enough to make her jump.

She looked up as he rested a hand on her shoulder. He was in a plain black sweater with brown corduroys that just made him look like he'd easily substitute as a pillow. But that thought didn't last long when she looked into his worried brown eyes.

"Yeah," she sighed, running her fingers through her braids. "Yeah, peachy."

"Very convincing," Wood said, offering a small lopsided smile as the lift doors opened and they stepped inside. "Its not your fault, you know."

"What if it is?" Angelina asked when the doors closed, finally voicing the fear she'd been mulling over since Jordan's accusations at the conference. "What if more of you get hurt? And it's all my fault."

"Lina, look at me," Wood said softly, hooking a finger under her chin to draw her eyes up again. "The NQA has launched an investigation. No one's going to get near any of us. I don't even think Mike's ever letting you get the post again."

The comment made her smile and she elbowed him before she started laughing. Wood chuckled and took her hands in his.

"What you need is a break," Wood announced, linking arms with her as the lift doors opened to the main lobby. "What say you to a night in Paris?"

"Paris?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow at him, but her heart rose a few notches anyway.

"Sure! Why not?" he said, grinning at her. "I know a fantastic bistro along the river-."

"What about Fallon?" she interrupted. "Won't she have something to say about that?"

"And Mike won't?" Wood countered.

"Mike," Angelina groaned, clapping her hand to her forehead. She'd completely forgotten about him. "I can't. He wanted to-."

"He can wait," Wood suggested.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You know he'd say that Fallon's using you to get me off my game."

Wood smirked, then shrugged and continued to lead her out of the building via a side entrence. "Let them grouse and hate each other all they want. I don't give a damn any more. You-know-who's terrorizing wizards everywhere-hell, the world could end tomorrow! Why not live while we can."

Her face felt like it was starting to burn under the skin as passion covered every syllable. She couldn't remember if he had this "seize the day" attitude in school, mostly she remembered his obsession with Quidditch and his determination to go professional. But she'd be lying if she didn't find it incredibly appealing.

The look on Wood's face assured her that he knew exactly what his words were doing-and that was exactly what he'd been aiming for. "Come with me, Johnson."

She raised an eyebrow at him again as he leaned in closer to her. "Is that an order I hear?" she teased. "Are you expecting me to obey like a little school girl?"

His lips were inches from hers now, smirking as he chuckled. "Well, more like disobey the school."

A smile came to her own face and she could barely keep from giggling as their noses touched, then he pressed his lips to hers-making them tingle with electricity.

"Is that a 'yes'?" he murmured.

Cursing it as a bad idea, but also definitely not caring, Angelina nodded and closed her eyes to the kisses.

"Well then," he breathed. "Allonz-y."

oOoOo

When she opened her eyes again, Angelina's eyes were greeted with the beauty of a late Autumn day that only Paris could provide. The sun was hanging low in the sky, though not quite ready for sunset, and cast luxurious shadows through the thriving city. Even with You-know-who causing chaos and weather shifts, it seemed as though Paris must have had its own protection against the problems of the outside worlds.

All-in-all, it was a perfect response to the day she'd just had. And, yet again, Wood proved to be a surprising resource. She had no idea how many times he'd done this, but she honestly didn't care at this point. He showed her strange little quirky shops and cafes off the beaten path and enclosed gardens that she was sure couldn't be open to the public. She tried to absorb all of it, taking in as much as she could while they wandered among the Parisians in their daily routines.

By the time night started closing in, Angelina and Wood found themselves near the skirts of the city, on the veranda of a restaurant atop a Victorian era building and overlooking the glorious city as the rosy rays of light cast shadows like a spider's web over the ground below.

"Maybe you should move to France," Wood commented, swirling his glass of wine.

Angelina looked back at him from where she'd stepped closer to the rail, taking in the breath taking view even more than she could at their table. Not that their spot was awful anyway you looked at it.

Wood had opted to stay at the table, making no effort to hide the fact that he'd been staring at her the whole time. A thought which made her blush to the roots of her hair, though she made a face at him. He cast her a smile.

She returned the smile as she pushed away from the rail and strolled back over to him. "Oh I should, huh?" she asked, a playful twinkle to her eyes. "Just escape life and pretend I'm a Parisian Heiress or something?"

He made a dramatically thoughtful look and tapped his chin. "It's a thought..."

Angelina chuckled and shook her head. If she was being completely honest-yes, she had thought about doing something like that. More or less. Not so much on the Heiress part because her funds would never account for that, but running away and restarting life as someone else? Yeah, that was definitely a thought that had crossed her mind more than once.

"I couldn't leave everyone," she said, unable to stop the regretful sound from entering her voice.

"Like who?" Wood asked.

It wasn't irritated or spiteful, it wasn't teasing, it was just a question. As though he was the calm voice of reason inside her head who only wanted to help make things clearer. But she didn't know how to answer it.

"My dad," was easily the first person to come to mind, quickly followed by, "My cousin, her family-the twins and Jase at that. My team. Well, teams actually."

Wood smiled at that. "So me?"

"Of course you!" she said, rolling her eyes even as she felt her face grow warm again.

"So let's go together," Wood offered.

"Come again?" Angelina raised an eyebrow at him.

He gave her another smile, but his eyes made her think he was even a little serious when he said, "You and me, we get out of there-I don't care where-we just go and start different lives. We'll only tell the ones we can't leave, it'll give them a place to go on holiday."

Angelina stared at him. Trying to place whether to put weight into what he'd said. Could she do it? Give up everything she's worked for so far and just go for something else? She couldn't do without Quidditch, she already learned that. She'd spent one very difficult year after Hogwarts trying to live in a way her father had considered "normal," and went running back to the sport as soon as she was physically able.

Wood gave a soft chuckle and Angelina looked up to see him looking into the bottom of his wine as he twirled the glass's base across the silken table cloth. "Maybe later in life," he said before he met her gaze with another smile. "We have Mongolia coming up, then Bulgaria. It would be a pity to miss out on beating them."

She snorted a laugh as his expression grew mischievous. "And Gwenog would kill us."

"Yeah," Wood agreed. "And there's no way we'd want that."

And so, with laughter and the arrival of their dinners, the moment passed. But Angelina couldn't let it slide. Had he really meant what he'd said? Did Wood really want to run away? He _had_ been the one who'd suggested they escape to the continent after the press conference. But it was a thought that, even when they returned to England, she couldn't bring herself to ask.

_**A/N:** Well that took a while, didn't it? Sorry about that! Hopefully this chapter's up to par, guess I'll find out lol And, lo, enter Lee Jordan! :D Well this should create some form of mess..._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next few days went by in what Angelina could only describe as a dizzying blur. She could barely remember the win over Mongolia that Saturday. Her mornings started with a trip to St Mungos to check on her friend, Serafina's family still being MIA. But it was always a short stop, then she'd be off to join Mike at some publicity thing and then, of course, there was training on the pitch. Practices felt longer, Gwenog had a shorter fuse, and Marian's continual fights with Duke weren't helping matters. When they'd finally get off the field, Angelina would make a quick stop off at Mike's office (just to check in) and then she'd run off to St Mungos to look in on Serafina again. Wood joined her a couple of times, but more often than not Fallon Griscomb would be waiting at the lift to pull him away.

So most of the visits she was alone with just the slow scratching sound of magical quills as they recorded all signs that her teammate was still alive. There was only one night, Thursday night actually, that she even bumped into anyone else coming from the private room.

"Jase?!" Angelina gasped as the blonde burst into the hall and nearly collided with her.

The young woman blinked at her for a moment, then gave her a tired-out smile. "Oh, hey, Angelina. How are you?"

"Fine," Angelina answered slowly, studying her for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

Jasene's smile grew a little. "Helping," she said, then glanced around at the fairly unoccupied hallway. "But now I need to go."

"Are you feeling okay?" Angelina asked, frowning.

"Fine," Jasene echoed her earlier answer, but in truth the blonde was looking alot paler than usual, like maybe she was going to be ill. "Not a fan of hospitals. I'd have flooed direct, but there isn't one in her room."

"Wh-You mean for Serafina's-?"

"I've gotta go," was Jasene's quick interjection and soon she'd gotten down the corridor and slipped into the floor's break room.

Angelina followed, but all she found was an empty room with a crackling fireplace. Not wanting to be called out for going places she shouldn't, something apparently Jasene had no fear of (which she strangely felt that Fred was to blame for), Angelina tucked her hands back into the pockets of her coat and started off towards Serafina's room. She'd nearly gotten to the door again when she realized there was actually something in her pocket. A slip of paper with one sentence on it.

"_The boys'll get you tomorrow at six ~ Jase_."

Her mouth fell open a little, but she couldn't help laughing as she wondered how Jasene had managed to get the message into her pocket. Clearly the blonde had been learning from her marriage to Fred. Angelina was still chuckling a bit when she went into her teammates room. Then she stared.

The quills were working at a mad pace and Serafina definitely had more color to her face now. Not only that, but her eyes were moving beneath their lids-a sign that she wasn't entirely lost to a coma. Angelina glanced back at the hallway as she took a few more steps into the room and the door slowly closed behind her. _What on earth?_

oOoOo

"Are you trying to turn me grey before I reach forty or something?" Mike asked, slapping several newspapers and magazines onto the desk in front of her as Angelina took a seat. "The day we had a major press conference, where it was pointed out that you're probably being targeted, and you ran off to Paris?! And with _Fallon's athlete_?"

"I needed to get away, Mike," she said calmly, tentatively pushing the reading material around as their cover images smiled and waved or acted out towards the frame. "And if you'd actually spend more than two minutes in the room with Oliver, you'd realize he's not what the tabloids say."

"So, what? You couldn't have at least sent a _note_?" Mike queried, running a hand through his hair-making it practically stand on end, a look not becoming but definitely showing how often he'd done the action. "Merlin's sake, Ange, that's what the interdepartmental memos are for!"

She sighed and slouching back in the chair, effectively separating herself from the pile of nonsense. "I know, Mike," she groaned. "I wasn't thinking, I get it. But you're blowing this out of proportion-."

"Out of _proportion?!_" Mike dropped into his own chair in defeat, staring at her as though she'd just told him that You-know-who wasn't the deadliest wizard in the world. "Angelina," he continued in a forced calm as he pressed his fingertips together, "you hired me because of the harassment issues. We have new protocols because of the kidnapping and death threats. Serafina was poisoned by a necklace that could have been heading for you. Please, tell me how I'm blowing the fact that you up and disappeared for an entire evening without telling _anyone_ out of proportion!"

_Well, when you put it that way_... Angelina sunk further into her chair, her fingertips tracing the fabric of the armrests as she tried to find a way around the heaping barrel of guilt he'd just handed her. "You're right," she said quietly, not wanting to meet his gaze. "I should have thought about who would be effected by my choices the other night."

"Thank you," Mike said, looking fairly drained as he dropped into his desk chair. He sighed and ruffled his hair again. "Is it really so hard to just let me know?"

"I'm just-I can't do anything anymore," she said in a huff as she tried to put her frustration into words. "Every ounce of my time I have to be accounted for and around hordes of people. You know what I miss most? Tuesdays! I miss how Tuesday was my day of freedom. Nobody interviewing me, nobody forcing me onto the pitch or anywhere else. I could go to the coast or shopping or to someone else's match or-did you know I had to give up tickets to the Wicked Sisters' concert back in September? Ever since I joined this bloody team, I haven't had a proper day off, my fridge is empty, and I'm running out of shampoo!"

Mike regarded her strangely, almost sadly, but he nodded. "So you don't like being on England's representing team?"

Angelina felt like she'd been hit in the stomach with a stunning curse. Did she like it? It was something she'd been working towards since Hogwarts, wasn't it? "I do," she said slowly. "Or did. But... I think I like just playing in the national league. There's less pressure."

To her surprise, Mike chuckled. "I couldn't agree more."

She blinked at him. "Seriously?"

"Of course," he said, laughing outright and sounding something along the lines of relieved. "Are you joking? I'm _counting_ the days until Fallon Marcomb goes back to being on an opposing team and I don't have her trying to copy my every move or interfere with my schedule or mucking up my time with-uh, with other people in the NQA."

Angelina raised an eyebrow at him, which made Mike go a little red and shuffle together some of the articles.

He cleared his throat a little as she started to smirk. "Yes, it's the pinnacle of my career getting you here, but all brilliant things come with price tags. I'd take a comfortable pace life with you on the Tornados over the insanity of global teams any day. Plus, General Stonewood is like my _own_ uncle and would kill me if anything happened to you on my watch."

"Oh, so that's the _only_ reason?" she teased, folding her arms.

"Well, that, and I'd be out of a job, you see," he said, casting her a cheeky grin.

"Ah, yes, that's _definitely_ the most important thing," she chided through her smile.

"It is," he agreed, before he chuckled again and shaking his head. "So... How's Serafina?"

The somber mood was instantaneous and Angelina sighed too. "Better," she assured him. "Last night-she started turning her head in her sleep."

Mike nodded, but looked at her curiously. "You didn't see her this morning?"

"I kinda over-slept," she admitted.

"Oh, well, no worries," he said briskly. "I'll be stopping by there later anyway."

"You will?" Angelina asked.

"My day includes more than this office, you know," he retorted cheerfully.

"Sure it does," she said with a smirk, then sighed and gestured to the array of magazines on his desk. "So is that it? For the post?"

Mike smirked as well, then held up a decent sized pile. "You've got a dozen fan letters that aren't obsessive and should be answered. Three bills that should be paid—."

"Can't you?" she whined, flipping through _Quidditch Weekly_.

"Not even if you pay me more," Mike said without skipping a beat as he looked at the names on the envelopes. "And...well now... what's this?"

Angelina looked up as Mike pulled a parcel from the center of the pile. Mike's typically confident face looked strange with the frown of confusion on it and Angelina found herself mimicking the expression.

"What?" she asked.

"I... I sent all parcels down to the Aurors on the third floor this morning," he said, still staring at the package in his hand. "This shouldn't be here."

Red flags and all sorts of alarms went off inside Angelina's head as she looked from the package to her agent and back again. Was she imagining things? Or was it changing color? "Get rid of it," she said, locking eyes with Mike. "Put it down!"

Mike's eyes went to his hands again, but he didn't move. "I can't."

"What? Why not?" Angelina demanded. "Have one of them come get it!"

"No, I really _can't_," he said. "My hands—I can't put it down."

Swears coursed through Angelina's mind and her heart was racing as she tried to think of what to do. Had they ever covered something like this in a Defense class? Merlin knows she'd had a rather awful exposure to that subject, with a new teacher every year, but still-someone had to have warned them about this sort of thing! Who could she remember? Dibbens, Fellure, Quirrel, Lockhart-none of them were helpful, and one of them turned out to have You-know-who living on the back of his head! Lupin? That guy knew his stuff, but they hadn't gotten into dealing with hexed objects so far as she could remember.

Moody would've known and made sure they knew what to do, you know, if it had actually been Moody instead of some death eater with a love of Polyjuice potion. And Umbridge wouldn't have taught them how to deal with anything even if their lives depended on it.

There was one thing, though. And it wasn't a professor who'd taught her.

Angelina quickly pulled her wand from her boot and flicked it through the air. "Expecto Patronum!"

Instantly silver mist appeared, taking the form of an eagle that turned its head in her direction. Hoping she was doing this correctly. "Chiamanta vocale," she said into the wand point. "Auror offices, NQL, level three. Dangerous package on level six, Mike Smithers' office. Help ASAP."

The patronus eagle let out a screech and took to the air, flying faster than its real-life copy could have as it disappeared through the closed door. Angelina tried to keep her thoughts clear and upbeat, which was easier than she'd have guessed. After all, her thoughts were overly happy that Harry and his friends had started up that defense club in her senior year and taught her this.

Moments later a man's voice called through the tip of her wand, "On our way, we'll be there momentarily."

Angelina sighed, letting the patronus spell drop as she looked up to Mike again. The sports agent looked like he wanted to be relieved, and to a certain level Angelina was sure he was, but it didn't last long as the parcel changed color again. It was even brighter in color now and for the briefest of seconds she thought that was why his hands looked different-that they just contrasted horribly against the reddish color. But horror quickly filled her as she realized his hands were turning to stone.

"Mike," she said, trying not to sound anything less than calm-and failing miserably.

"Get out of here, Ange," he responded, sounding pained.

"Mike," she said again. "Your hands..."

"I know," he said. "Just get out of here. You don't need to see this."

She nodded, understanding his pride better than anyone, but she couldn't make herself move when she looked up to see beads of sweat on his brow and the panic in his dark eyes.

"Out of the way," a deep voice commanded, making Angelina jump as a hand moved her from the chair and back a few steps.

"Bundy?" Angelina gasped as she tripped backwards into a pair of arms that pulled her safely away.

Her former classmate barely paused to look back over his shoulder and cast her a smile of greeting before turning to Mike with three other Aurors.

"No!" she yelped, pulling against the arms holding her as she was moved into the corridor. "Let go! Karl! _Stop! _I can't just-."

"Lina, calm down," Wood's voice echoed in her ear. "Leave room for them to work. I promise, we won't go farther than this."

Her knees felt weak as she turned to find his face next to hers, looking just as concerned but far more level-headed to handle it. She gripped his arms tightly, keeping them around her in case she did actually fall. But a moment later, they were sitting on a bench by the large windows nearest to Mike's end of the hall.

"What was it?" he asked after a moment with nothing but the sounds of of muttering and the flashes of spells to fill the silence of the hallway.

Angelina shook her head, a very clear image of the parcel in her memory. "The post again," she said slowly. "It was in the post again. Heaven sakes, Lee was right. Its my fault."

Wood's grip tightened ever so slightly, clutching her to him protectively. "No. No, he's not right," he said, firmly rooted in denial. "I don't know how he even found out about Serafina, but he's not right. Okay?"

She forced a slow breath, nodding. Wood was right. He had to be right. It was ridiculous and a coincidence.

"Er... so," Wood said, tying to break the awkward silence. "Bundy?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, Karl," she said, her mind still on Mike. "He was in Ravenclaw, my year. We were desk-mates for potions."

"Ah." Wood nodded, fidgeting with his wristwatch. "Then, er, then he's, uh, good at his job?"

"I guess so," she said, shrugging absently. "I haven't seen him since graduation."

"Oh."

Long moments passed in silence, with both of the Quidditch players simply listening to the hushed mumble of voices coming from Mike's office. It felt like ages had passed before any movement came and, when it did, it was in the form of Karl Bundy.

"What was it?" Angelina asked, springing to her feet.

The tall young man ran a hand through his neatly styled auburn hair and let out a his of a breath, looking back over his shoulder at the office as he continued towards them. Angelina and Wood exchanged glances.

"I've seen worse," was Bundy's eventual answer with a wry smile which quickly faded to a darkly serious frown. "Whoever sent that package wanted to do some damage."

"What was it?" Wood echoed Angelina's earlier question.

Bundy continued to look uncomfortable and gave another stressed breath. "Have either of you heard of the Gorgon Charm?"

Angelina frowned, shaking her head in confusion. Wood, however, looked mortified. "You're sure?" he croaked. "It didn't get far, did it?"

"Not that we can see," Bundy said, his wry smirk returning for a moment. "We've managed to contain the spell so it can neutralize and we'll be able to get him back in working order before a fortnight passes. Good news is that we don't have to worry about more of him turning to stone."

"Stone?" Angelina repeated, finally understanding and staring at Bundy like he was speaking Greek. "It was turning him to _stone_?"

The taller man nodded, looking back into the room with a disappointed sigh. "Like I said, whoever put that there definitely wanted to do some damage," he said, then gave her a small, reassuring smile. "But don't you worry, Johnson. He'll be right again soon enough."

"Oh," Angelina sighed, nodding. It felt like she wasn't really there. This was just some form of nightmare that she'd wake up from soon to find Kellen sitting on her stomach and yowling for food. "Good. Right, then. Well, we have to get to the pitch."

Bundy nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "No worries," he said. "I fully get it-just make sure you take Egypt in the next match! The lads and I have galleons riding on you getting against Ireland."

Angelina gave a laugh and Wood chuckled. "Sure, Karl," she said, relieved to be smiling again. "We'll keep your betting in mind... Just...get me if there's anything I can do."

Her former classmate nodded and turned back to Mike's office. Angelina watched him for a moment before Wood's grip on her shoulder tightened slightly before he let go to lead the way back to the lift. With one more glance back, Angelina followed, trying to fight the feeling that this was all her fault.

oOoOo

Angelina got word that Mike had been admitted to St Mungo's after she came back off the pitch. "Precautionary," they'd told her. "Because if something goes wrong, he's better off where people can help him."

She'd nodded and agreed, but she felt like screaming as she rushed to get over there. Mike hated hospitals, the fact that he'd been planning to visit Serafina had been amazing. But now he was in a room only a few doors down from her. Visiting that night, though, that had been more like a bludger to the stomach.

In her fourth year at Hogwarts, there had been cases of petrification. Several students turned up looking like those porcelain dolls her grandmother had given her when she was little. The whole thing had scared the living daylights out of her, especially when her friend Sydney brought her to the hospital wing for a sprained ankle. She was fairly sure she'd had nightmares for the following three months. Her dolls hadn't seen the outside of her brother's trunk since then.

That was how she found herself standing outside her agent's room, trying not to let memories of seeing that aspiring paparazzo or the whiny Hufflepuff keep her from going inside. She'd nearly turned to give up when a sound stopped her.

"Hey." The voice that called to her was hoarse and had a grating edge to it, but you could still hear Mike through it. He gave her a sort of stiff smile as she hesitantly made her way across the room. "I don't like it either."

She forced a laugh.

"You're okay, right?"

Angelian nearly started laughing, though it only brought tears to the fore when she let out the gasped sound. She quickly checked to make sure no mascara was out of places and shook her head in disbelief. "I'm fine," she assured him. "You're the one who was holding the parcel."

Mike gave her what he could of a smile, which was lopsided as though he was favoring one side of his face. As though that one side had nearly been lost to the spell too. "Yeah," he agreed. "Stupid me. But you're the reason I'm not a strange looking lawn ornament."

She couldn't help grimacing at his attempted humor.

"Ange," he rasped, his smile dropping to look at her seriously. "I'll be fine. The Aurors got to me before it got to anything incredibly vital-."

"What do you mean by 'incredibly-'?"

"And the healers have already applied a recessive potion," he finished, easily avoiding her question with a lopsided smile. "You'll just have to not get post for a few days or so."

She let out a snort. "Fine by me," she muttered, dropping into the bedside chair. It made him smile and she found herself smiling back. "But next time, when you say that you'll be visiting the hospital, promise you mean to see someone else and not as a patient."

Mike wheezed a chuckle, smiling more widely before shrugging almost sheepishly. "Beats waiting in the reception queue."

"Oh shut up," Angelina groaned, smirking as she shoved his shoulder-happy to note that it wasn't solid as porcelain as they both dissolved into gentle laughter.

oOoOo

When that night finally arrived, Angelina had forgotten about the Weasleys' plans for watching movies. Once she left practice, practically racing through changing, she'd sprinted to St Mungo's to see Serafina, who'd finally woken up. The young woman didn't stay awake long, but it was better than nothing. By the time Angelina had gone home and switched into lounge clothes, all she wanted to do was curl up with her cat and listen to the radio.

No such luck. She'd just gotten to a muggle pop station, having long since decided that muggle radio was far less filled with distress than wizarding, when the door was flung open, scaring her and Kellan half out of their wits.

"And cue the applause!" Fred Weasley called out, practically breaking into song. The poor little cat went scrambling to her bedroom in terror.

Angelina stared at the ginger, slack jawed. "What the-."

"Blame Jase," he said, grinning as he shrugged and sauntered the short distance across the room to shut off the radio.

"You have an amazingly basic security set up on this place," George informed her, earning him a glare.

"Interesting choice of attire," Fred complimented, holding his chin as he nodded. "Though I'd have thought you wanted to impress Wood, not scare him away."

She launched a pillow at his head, but (ever the Beater) Fred easily batted it away, nearly hitting a vase she had sitting by the window. Which, of course, meant the pillow hit the window pane and fell down to the street below. At the shouts of alarm, all three crossed to the window and looked down, but by then the accosted pedestrian was already on their way.

"What _are_ you two doing here?" Angelina grumbled, leaning against the wall with her arms folded in front of her.

The twins blinked at her and exchanged bemused glances. "We're here to kidnap you," Fred announced. "You've got ten seconds to change your clothes or we're taking you as is!"

He curled his fingers like claws in front of himself, with George mimicking him, as they approached. Angelina let out a shout and swatted them away. "Get off! What are you talking about?"

"Trek Wars!" the twins chorused.

Angelina raised an eyebrow at them. "What?"

"Movies," George reported, apparently thinking that clarified everything.

"They're planning on a marathon," Fred added, looking fairly enthusiastic.

"Now c'mon! Wood and the girls are waiting for us," George said, giving her a sly smirk.

Even though she felt a blush rise in her cheeks, she wrinkled her nose at him and kicked him lightly in the shin. Which resulted in him over-dramatically yelping and falling onto her couch.

"Alright, time's up!" Fred announced and in seconds he'd flung her over his shoulder.

"Fred!" She screamed, pounding her fists against his back. "Put me down, you idiot!"

"Turn the lock behind you, Georgie," Fred advised as he marched out the door.

George chuckled in response and Angelina shifted so she could glare at him through her braids, only to see him grinning back at her.

"And _here_ we go!"

_**A/N:**__ Finally broke some of that writer's block away! ^_^ There's more ahead for Angelina! Fred and George's new found love of science fiction is the least of her problems... *dark laughter*_


	11. Chapter 11

Watching Angelina part 11

The movie had been strange, full of action and adventure and creatures that Angelina was sure she'd never studied. But then, she was fairly sure that muggles didn't fly around from planet to planet in metal contraptions that seemed more likely to fall apart at a touch. Still. She couldn't help making links of similarity between the movies and what the wizarding world was facing with You-know-who.

She could only hope it ended as happily. So far... it didn't look it.

"Oliver, you look half traumatized," Jasene said with a chuckle, as she went around him to the kitchen.

"Just... trying to... process," he managed, his eyes still large.

"No worries, it's alot to take in," Fred said with a laugh, slinging an arm around his former team captain's shoulders.

"We'll fix that though," George said, mirroring his brother's motion.

"Of course," Melissa said, squeezing her way past them. "There's five more in the series."

"Wait, what?" George asked, releasing his hold on Oliver to corner his wife as she reached for the coffee pot. "We've only seen three!"

"Yeah, the originals," Melissa explained. "After the original three, Lucas went back and made a prequel trilogy-."

"Which _sucked_!" Jasene announced from the ladder that encircled the kitchen, where she was balancing with several bowls and a container of popcorn kernels. "Well, no, the first one wasn't _too_ awful-."

"_Jase_," Fred said in warning, pulling away from his friend as he eyed his wife warily.

"I would have let you watch them eventually," Jasene told him, dismissively waving her hand and making the bowls wobble dangerously.

"_Not_ what I was referring to," Fred responded, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow while he walked over to the ladder's base.

Jasene rolled her eyes. "My coordination's not _that_ bad!"

"Yeah. When I'm the one coming to bed with marks I can't explain or injuries I hadn't noticed before, _then_ you can tell me you're not," Fred promised, as he climbed the ladder until he was only a few rungs behind her and holding onto the structure from around her middle. Making the blonde chuckle.

Angelina shook her head as she watched them for a moment. Really, being in the Weasley house could almost make her forget that she seemed to attract danger lately. Even forget that there was a real war going on other than what they'd watch on the television screen.

It was an effect the blonde had, Angelina was sure of it. Melissa was a "military brat." And even if she _could_ cloak the fears from her smile, those teal eyes of hers would give away all the thoughts that kept her up at night. The twins were always a laugh, but having practically grown up with them, Angelina was pleased to say she could tell when their smiles were genuine and when they were meant to hide something.

Jasene, though, all she could see was smiles. Always in a world of her own, or at least so detached from the woes that plagued the world it was contagious. To some extent it was irritating, Angelina had worries of death threats and possibilities of Death Eaters at her door while Mrs Fred Weasley seemed to only worry about whether her son had gone down for a nap. Still, this newly revealed talent with healing gained the blonde at least a few more points of worth in her eyes.

Oliver moved next to her and Angelina looked up to his maple-syrup eyes to find him watching the Weasleys, too. He was looking from one couple to the other as George started whispering to Melissa and making her break into evil little giggles while Fred guided his wife back down to the ground. Once again he had that strange sadness in those deep brown pools that honestly made her wish she could fix it. Which was weird. Who knew that Oliver could be so remorseful over lost ties?

"Will you two knock it _off_?!" Jasene begged, fending off the twins as the popcorn kernels quickly heated. "How are we going to have any for the next movie if you eat it all?"

"Mm," Fred hummed around several pieces of popcorn. "She does have a point."

"Not one that I'm worried about," George announced, tossing another piece to catch in his mouth. Though he missed when Jasene's elbow connected with his gut, instead landing in his hair where it remained perched.

A loud cry floated through the house from somewhere upstairs. All four Weasleys looked upward and Angelina found herself doing the same. Barely a second or two passed before Jasene sighed. "That one's ours," she announced with a sigh, then looked to Fred. "I'll take this turn if you promise not to eat any more while I'm gone."

Fred glanced at his twin, whom winced as the shrill cry got louder. "Deal."

Jaene gave him a smile and kissed his cheek before making her way out of the kitchen. She hadn't even gotten past the counters before both twins snuck another piece, sending both Wood and Melissa into the action to stop them. All four bursting with laughter.

"Here," Angelina said quickly as the girl stepped past her. "I'll come with you."

The blonde gave her look of confused surprise, but shrugged. "If you really want to," she responded, sounding skeptical. "It's probably a diaper change."

Angelina couldn't help the small grimace the idea brought, but she shrugged. "Well, truthfully, I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh." Jasene sounded somewhat wary, but she brought another smile to her face as she nodded and motion for the Quidditch player to follow her to the foyer. "What about?"

"Well, you know how you've been helping Sera?" Angelina started slowly as they reached the stairs. "Doing whatever you do that the healers can't?"

"Yeah," Jasene answered just as slowly, quirking an eyebrow at her though she glanced up the stairs again to the softened cries. "What about it?"

"Well, you know how Mike-the Gorgon Charm," she stammered until Jasene nodded, acknowledging the news she'd told them earlier. "Do you think you could... help him too?"

The blonde stared at her. No real expression crossed the girl's face, more just flat calculations. As though the air was full of speeding numbers that Angelina couldn't see. A hazard she was used to while dealing with some of her Ravenclaw friends. Though the fact that Jasene could be lumped in with them was a little daunting. Typically she saw the blonde as a Hufflepuff. If that.

It took a moment, and another loud wail from the distressed child upstairs, before Jasene blinked, bringing back the focus of her gaze as she gave a small smile. "If I can help at all, it'll take longer to get Serafina back on her feet," she warned. "But I'll see what I can do."

Angelina hesitated, but nodded and gave her own smile. "That's fine," she promised. "Just as long as they get better."

Jasene continued to smile, giving a small nod as she glanced past the quidditch player at the stair-rail. "I need to get going," the blonde said, pointing upward. "The boys, you know."

"Right! Right," Angelina agreed with a nod, stepping quickly out of her way. "Thanks again!"

The blonde turned to give another smile and nod before quickening her steps up the stairs. Angelina turned to rejoin Oliver and the rest of the Weasley adults just as the last of the popcorn finished forming. Fred and George made a great show of sending the snack through the air into the six smaller bowls.

The second movie was actually a bit better than the first, though really they probably should have stopped before this one since it left them with an entirely unresolved ending. But it was almost painfully obvious that the young mothers in their company were quickly fading by the time names started to roll across the screen.

Even so, the blonde kept up her task as hostess. "So," she said, fighting a yawn as she got to her feet. "What's next?"

"Bed," was Fred's answer as he stood and draped dan arm across her shoulders. "Bed is next."

"I second that," George agreed with a yawn, wrapping his arms around his wife as the group moved from the movie-watching room. "Shop was half _brutal_ today, even with you girls helping."

Fred gave a grumble of agreement as he shifted to rest his chin on the blonde's shoulder, to which his frowning wife managed to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Necessary evil," she reported. "Most people can't say their business is as good."

"I suppose we should get going," Oliver voiced, his gaze meeting Angelina's. "We've had a bit of a long day too."

"You could stay, if you like," Jasene offered.

"We've got tons of rooms," Melissa agreed.

"Plus Jase makes some of the best breakfasts," Fred announced proudly, making her blush and elbow him in the stomach.

Wood smiled at the idea and Angelina gave a wry smirk. "Maybe some other time," she said. "Oliver's right, we probably should head out."

"Oh... Well, are you two off tomorrow?" Jasene asked, brightening as quickly as her smile had initially faded. "We could all go to that orchard out by the Burrow for a picnic!"

It wasn't just her eyes that had lit up again, though. Wood was looking at her, clearly enjoying this idea of reconnecting. But, really, they all had other things to be doing rather than picnicking. "Maybe," she consented finally. "If we can manage it."

Both Oliver and Jasene dimmed a bit at the response, but the girl in Fred's arms continued to smile. "Well, I hope you both can," she affirmed. "Either way, you both better be here for dinner next Thursday."

"And bring anyone you want," Melissa agreed with a smirk.

"Hell, with the amount she's cooking, bring the whole team," George egged on with a snort.

Oliver's smile grew back. "Yeah," he agreed, glancing at Angelina. "Yeah, we'll be here!"

"Alright," Angelina announced, trying not to roll her eyes though she smiled and took Oliver's hand. "But we've got to go."

"Right," Oliver agreed with a quick smile. "Right. Have a good night!"

"You too," Fred returned with a nod.

"Let us know about tomorrow," Melissa insisted.

"Will do," they promised with an additional wave and moved out the door.

oOoOo

"What happened to that whole 'long day' bit?" Angelina asked, throwing him a suspicious smirk as they climbed up the stairs of a refurbished factory in the eastern side of the city not far from the Tower Bridge. An area that was slowly rejuvenating and showing itself to be fairly vibrant in an underground way. Or at least it definitely looked that way when she and Oliver had walked up the block to his building.

"I figured it'd be nice of us not to wear out their hospitality too badly," he conceded with a shrug. "Plus they'd never tell us to leave."

"That's true," Angelina agreed with a laugh as they came to the top of the staircase. It lead to only a small hallway with a metal sliding door about twenty paces away. She raised an eyebrow at him, but Oliver merely smiled as he lead her to the door.

Tugging his wand out of the wrist guard, he performed a quick spell, tapping the apartment's number twice before stepping back as the metal door rolled open. Angelina smirked, raising an eyebrow that questioned whether he thought that would impress her. Oliver's smile only grew broader as he gestured for her to precede him into the flat.

So she did, making a slight face at him as she went, only to stop as soon as she'd stepped over the threshold. Her mouth fell open as her eyes grew large. The place was huge. Bigger than her apartment by half, if not double the size. And it was all open.

On her right was a kitchen, simple and full of interesting angles with a stripe of windows behind a tiny breakfast table that spanned floor to ceiling and overlooked the Tames. To her right, there was a closet and a table serving as Oliver's "catch-all" it seemed as pictures and scarves and random trinkets were strewn across it without much thought. Just beyond the table, though, was a platform complete with iron rail that went about three meters further into the space before opening to wide steps down. Upon the platform was a simple bed, perhaps a platform as well as she didn't see any dresser for his clothes, and nightstand underneath a sloped roof of windowed glass that drew in more lights of the city and a view of the Tower Bridge.

"Pretty spectacular, yeah?" Oliver asked from the kitchen where he was already putting the kettle on. When she blinked at him dumb-foundedly, the man blushed faintly and cupped the back of his neck. "Habit," he explained, gesturing to the pot. "I should've asked."

"It's fine," Angelina managed, smiling at him reassuringly before letting her eyes wander again.

The kitchen was edged by what could've been another closet, but she quickly realized it was a large pantry cupboard as Oliver opened it to retrieve a canister of tea. Beyond both the pantry and the large metal support beam that ended the platform's space were more open areas. A dining table and chairs were off to the left beneath a lower ceiling of glass while on the right was a sitting area that focused on a brick fireplace. To the right of the fireplace was another door, which was open to show more glass windows and a sink, hinting at the private space inside.

Between the social areas, in its own nook in the wall, was a spiral metal staircase that led up to a small loft area several meters above the floor.

"I'll show you up there tomorrow morning," Oliver assured her, appearing at her side to hand her a cup of tea. Then he gave her a smile and nodded toward the sofas, where Angelina happily sat next to him.

"Tomorrow morning, huh?" she commented, smirking as she followed him.

He had a sheepish blush as he smiled and shrugged. "If you'd like."

She chuckled and took a sip of her tea, delighted to find that it was exotic and sweet. A pear flavor with ginger maybe. Quirky and unexpected, rather like the flat and its owner. "You're right," she informed him. "This place is nothing short of spectacular."

Oliver smiled over the rim of his cup and nodded as he set it on the table. "Thank you."

"Such high ceilings!" She commented, staring upward at the steel rafters. There was only one strip of ceiling, or well roof, that wasn't glass. It might have only been a meeter wide for all she could tell, but it was well over four meters above her head. "How on earth do you manage to keep it from feeling drafty?"

"Magic," Oliver responded with a shrug, then gave a coy smirk. "Actually, the muggles who re-purposed this place did a great job with sealants around the windows. That and the sun rather likes this place. With all the brick and glass, this place heats up faster than the Hogwarts greenhouses."

"I bet," Angelina agreed, staring around again. The exposed brickwork suited him more than she could have ever said. "The amount of light doesn't bother you?"

Oliver shrugged. "Nah. It's not that bad."

He was being nonchalant, trying to play it off as the truth, but Angelina didn't have to be an expert to spot the dark shadow lingering in his eyes or how tense he'd gone, his fingers were paling from the grip he had on his cup. There were ghosts haunting him. Not semi-physical apparitions like the spirits that made Hogwarts their stomping grounds, but thoughts, memories maybe, that refused to be put to rest. She knew that look far too well.

"So!" Angelina blinked as his voice turned far too cheery. "What did you think of those-uh-'movies'?"

Angelina laughed as he made quotation marks in the air with his fingers and shook her head. "I had no idea what it was we were watching," she admitted. "Such a strange world the twins have gotten themselves into."

"But it was rather brilliant," Oliver pointed out.

She laughed again, but nodded in agreement. "Leave it to Jasene to pick a movie with war themes as though there weren't enough of that going 'round already."

"I doubt she did it on purpose," Oliver said, getting up to start up a fire in the fireplace. "I think she liked it for the comedy in there."

Angelina hummed into her cup. Of course the blonde saw the comedy in it, she highly doubted Jasene had contact with reality now that she was a mother.

"Too bad we have practice tomorrow," Oliver commented absently, staring at the small dancing flames. "A picnic sounds like a brilliant afternoon."

"It's autumn," she reminded him, rolling her eyes. "We're not even sure it will be warm-or sunny tomorrow."

"Yeah, I guess," Oliver agreed and returned to her side. "Hope it's sunny, though. Don't fancy practice in the rain."

Angelina groaned in agreement, though she was content to curl up against his shoulder. "Though, if it was such bad weather we couldn't go anywhere," she offered with a smile. "I don't think I'd mind that either."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her before a sly smirk came to his face and he shifted to sling his arm around her. Angelina's smile broadened and she snuggled closer. He smelled like chocolate and cinnamon. And maybe a little bit of apricot from his tea. And she loved it.

oOoOo

As it turned out, rain did fill most of the next day, which didn't really make the day all bad since she and Oliver had quite the entertaining time going for breakfast on their way to practice. The practice itself had been surprisingly short, only running half the day. Which Angelina learned later was due to the NQA freaking out because of what had happened to Mike.

Which, of course, only brought more questions and pitying looks while the team hit the lockers. Particularly from Marian, who asked at least twelve times about how Serafina was supposed to be getting healed by someone not on St Mungos staff. A topic that was quickly wearing away her nerves each time she tried to hide what little she knew about the situation.

By the time she'd showered and changed clothes, Oliver was bouncing like a seven year old as he waited for her by the lift. "I've sent a message off to the twins," he told her, looking incredibly excited. "They say if we pop over now, we'll just make it in time for lunch."

Angelina sighed. "I wish I could," she said giving him an apologetic smile. "But I need to visit Mike at St Mungos."

"Oh..." Oliver's expression dropped a little, but he gave her another smile. "Well, we'll head there first-"

"You don't have to," she assured him. "Really, it'll be dull as dirt. And this _is_ Mike I'll be visiting..."

"Right," Oliver said, catching that she was hinting at their agents' feud.

"Tell you what," Angelina said, just wanting to see him smile again. "You go with the twins, I'm sure they've prepared a big lunch, and I'll try to make it there for dessert, alright? That's the best part anyway."

Oliver looked a little unsure at first, but eventually he nodded with a smile. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "I'll save a sandwich for you."

"Thanks," Angelina said with a grin, she highly doubted Jasene would've stopped at just sandwiches. Then gave him a kiss on the cheek before prodding him down the sidewalk. "Now get going!"

Chuckling, he gave her a salute and promptly disappeared.

Angelina waited a moment, as though to make sure he wasn't going to pop back in the next second with the twins to help drag her off again. But after a full two minutes, she headed to the sidewalk and pulled her scarf higher against the wind as she strode towards St Mungos.

The hospital was it's usual chaos of a Saturday with wizards and witches all over suffering from anything as minor as children who somehow managed to magnetize themselves through those that may have been brought in from a random Death Eater attack. Angelina hid her eyes from those, unable to shake the feeling that making eye contact would somehow transfer that awful fate to her. It was horrible an rude, a corner of her mind yelled at her, but in times like this there were far too many coincidences.

Mike's hallway was just as busy as the rest of the building, but she was still surprised to hear chatter coming from beyond his door. Frowning, she knocked lightly before turning the knob. She stopped just inside the room, with her hand still holding the door.

Her agent was definitely not alone. Not only had Mike somehow procured a table, that now straddled across him in the bed with papers strewn across it, but he was actually laughing as he was propped up with pillows. The last she'd seen of him, his facial features were having issues functioning, but the guy visiting him had him in stitches!

Speaking of which, her eyes traveled to Mike's guest. And her eyes went wide. He was tall, closing in on two meters maybe, with honey-colored hair that was accented brilliantly against the brown leather jacket he wore. A sleek pair of sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose to hide his eyes, but as their laughter tapered off she could feel his eyes on her.

"Ange!" Mike's eyes had followed his visitor's gaze and he gave her a smile as he stiffly turned his head towards her. "Come in! Come in, you have to meet someone."

She pulled a cautious smile onto her face as she finally let the door close behind her, her hand feeling a little tense as though she'd been hold the doorknob far too tightly.

Mike was oblivious. "Nate, this is my Quidditch queen, Angelina Johnson," the proud agent announced. "Angie, this is an old friend of mine, Nathan-."

"Not that old," the blonde man objected with a laugh. "I'm still a good three years younger than you."

Angelina stared. _That accent-_.

"He's from the states," Mike explained, catching sight of her raised eyebrows.

"Born here, raised there," Nate confirmed with a nod, pushing off from the wall.

It only took him two steps to be at her side, offering to shake her hand with a lopsided smile that seemed to have hidden thoughts behind it as he towered over her. It felt like her brain had stopped as she accepted the greeting.

"Merlin, how tall are you?" the question slipped out before she could stop it and her cheeks burned with the blush that came with his grin.

"Six-four," he answered with a shrug. "Last I checked."

"Uh, right," Angelina mumbled, her free hand quickly going to twiddle her scarf.

"Nate's over here on business," Mike explained as they dropped hands. "But I've managed him to stay a little longer to lend us a hand."

"You-what?" Angelina asked, her attention flickering between the two men as she moved to take up the seat beside Mike's bed. Nate went back next to the window.

"I run a wizarding mail-order company with my father and sister," Nate said simply.

Mike snorted and rolled his eyes. "As if that's all it is!"

"Came over here to arrange for a shipment of ingredients," Nate continued with a smirk. "When I heard about Mikey getting turned into a lawn ornament, I stopped in."

"And now he's staying around until I can work again," Mike provided. "He's going to be my stand-in."

Angelina's eyebrows rose even higher and she glanced towards Mike's friend. "The NQA will let you?"

Nate shrugged. "I've got connections," he supplied vaguely. "Plus I did a stint in sports for a while. Shouldn't be too hard to maneuver."

Mike chuckled and managed to barely shake his head. "You'll be fine. And, if nothing else, at least you'll be able to protect her."

Instantly Angelina's eyes narrowed at him in understanding. Nate had to be an Auror. Or at least something like it. That was the only way the NQA would agree to something like this with an outsider. Worse, with an American.

She must have looked mildly disgruntled at the idea because the man across from her grinned. "That's right," he confirmed. "I'm getting in some babysitting practice."

Her jaw dropped at the remark, though Mike started laughing again.

"If your kids are _anything_ like Angelina, I wish you luck!" the agent crowed.

"Could be worse," Nate pointed out with a shrug. "They could be like my sister."

Mike chuckled. "There are far worse things," he commented. "She's been an angel so far as I've seen her."

For a moment Nathan raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, but then breathed a laugh. "Wrong sister," he returned, but waved it off and pushed away from the window sill again. "Right, so, I'm gonna head down to the NQA and see if I can get a feel for the place. Let me know when you're heading out, Ange, and we'll do a longer q & a."

Angelina gaped at him as the man strode easily out the door, then turned to scowl at Mike. The agent matched her expression with a stubborn frown of his own.

"You brought an _Auror_ in?!" she snapped.

"Don't give me that," he scolded. "If the NQA had their way, we would've had one following you right from the start."

"I know people in the Auror department!" she defended.

"And you would've been able to get one of _them_ to help," Mike pointed out. "But you're the one who refused to make this a big deal."

"They're stretched thin as it is!" Angelina yelped. "Taking them away from battling Death Eater attacks and You-know-who and helping Harry with whatever the hell it is he's doing-that's asking for trouble!"

"You're _already_ in trouble!" Mike countered. "How much more can you get? Look," he said, cutting her off as she opened her mouth. "I know you don't like trusting people, so go ahead and back-ground check him with your ministry friends. But until we figure out who's got it in for you, you're under Nate's protection. _Don't_ give him the hell you give me."

Angelina raised an eyebrow at him, giving an incredulous snort as a teasing smirk pulled at her lips. "If he's supposed to keep me safe, he should be able to handle a little hell."

"_Ange_," he groaned, making her chuckle.

_**A/N:**__ Yeah, I don't think I'd had so much written for this. O_o ... That's my only reasoning for this chapter being so late. *shrug* Anyway, I really hope that this story doesn't feel as unfocused to you guys as it does to me... *sigh* Sorry! Lots going on. Beyond the list of job hunting, trying to maintain an apartment (cleaning up after a roommate and a cat), prepping to attend one wedding while having finally finished and now shipping a present for another, working long hours on mind numbing/meaningless tasks, and trying to keep in touch with friends in a society that prefers to do everything online instead of in reality. I've also just found out that a friend from Germany's visiting! ... In what time I have, I promise to get on with this lol thanks for your patience!_


	12. Chapter 12

Watching Angelina part 12

"Weren't you supposed to do something when you left the hospital?"

The voice practically made her jump out of her skin in the busy sidewalk. Angelina was clutching her scarf to her chest as she turned to face the man leaning against the brick building, almost as though she'd somehow thought it'd protect her. But she really hadn't needed to.

"Bloody flipping hell!" she gasped even as she recognized the smug grin. "Are you trying to scare me to death?!"

"Now, _what_ would give you that idea?" Nate's grin broadened and he pushed off from the wall to join her, matching her quickening stride with ease. "Knowing who you're related to, I'd have thought it'd be harder to do."

"What?" Angelina snapped, casting him a brief glare as she dodged a pedestrian.

"I know your uncle," he responded simply, stepping out of the way again of more hurried muggles.

"How?" she demanded, elbowing away from him as soon as a crowd passed.

He gave her another smug grin and let a shorter man hurry between them before answering. "It's a small world."

She gave him another glare, though this was a little more wary. "How _small_?"

"I dated your cousin."

She could've choked.

"Your eyes'll fall out if you keep staring like that," he commented with a chuckle to his voice.

"You dated _Melissa_?" she questioned. "And you're still _alive_?"

Nate's color rose a little as he avoided another pedestrian. "There were... extenuating circumstances," he informed her, then cleared his throat before changing the topic. "So, you really like going through the most densely populated areas to go home?"

"Not a fan of crowds?" she pried.

He gave a dry chuckle. "Not even remotely, but I can deal. You're the one who should be worried."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Keeping in public places is safer than taking secret ways."

"True," he conceded with a little laugh and nod. "But it's even safer if you travel with company."

She rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help smiling. _The guy could hold his own, that was a plus_. "Touche," she said and sighed. "Alright, c'mon. My flat's this way. But don't get any ideas about staying the night. You may have gotten my cousin, but you're not getting me."

"Never crossed my mind," he promised with a smirk.

Twenty minutes later, Angelina was jogging up the stairs to her apartment with Nate clomping along behind her. It must have been an American thing, to walk like that. As though he enjoyed wearing shoes that were too big. _Strike that_, she thought as she paused to unlock the door and glanced at his feet,_ is he wearing construction boots?_

Nate shifted his stance, making her look up to see him smirking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, right. So, yeah, this is it," she announced with a sigh as she opened the door. She pressed her lips into a line, rocking a little as a moment passed. "Right then, good night. Yeah?"

The American continued to smirk. "You need more security than that."

"And I'll set some spells when I'm inside," she informed him, rolling her eyes.

His eyebrow was raised again.

"Good night, Nate," she groused.

Nate gave a nod, his smirk still in place. "Good night, Miss Johnson."

"Don't call me that," she said, grimacing. "It's Angelina, and I'm not going to find you sleeping out here am I?"

A chuckle was her answer, but he turned to go back down the stairs. "I'll see you in the morning, Angelina."

She nodded, watching him as he sauntered. He definitely knew how to purchase jeans, and how to wear them. But a thought occurred to her. "In the morning, at the pitch!"

By that point he'd already rounded the landing to go down the next set of steps, but his hand reached around the corner to give a funny little, two fingered, "peace-out" wave. Then he was gone and Angelina shut the door to her apartment feeling like she could use a day off.

With a tired sigh, she made herself a quick meal and took a hot shower. It wasn't until she was just crawling into bed that she noticed the soft buzzing sound that pulsed in a short rhythm somewhere in the room. Taking hold of her wand just in case, Angelina slowly followed the sound to her vanity desk (of all places). Frowning, she dug around in the mess of cosmetics and jewelry until a faint glowing caught her eye.

"The mirror?" she muttered, arching an eyebrow as she picked up the small compact and twisted it open.

Only to stare at it in shock.

"Oliver?"

"_Hiya, Lina!_" Oliver grinned at her from the top circle of glass where her reflection should've been.

Angelina blinked. "What the-."

"_Two-way mirrors_," Oliver supplied, smiling as brightly as a child on sugar. "_Fred and George got the idea from Harry's godfather or something, gave me one. Melissa'd said she gave you one too so I reckoned I'd give it a try!_"

"Uh-huh," she hummed slowly, carrying the mirror with her back to bed. "And you just decided to do this two hours to midnight when we have practice in the morning?"

His expression turned sheepish. "_Right, yeah, sorry_."

"Yeah, well..." Angelina let her comment trail off as she shrugged.

It earned her another smile, though Oliver gave her a curious look. "_So what happened today?_"

"Today?" Angelina repeated tiredly.

"_You were supposed to meet us_," he supplied. "_Remember? Weasleys? Orchard?_"

"Right," Angelina groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. "Sorry. Things got a little complicated. I forgot about it."

"_Yeah, we figured that_," he told her with a reassuring smile. "_But I've saved you some of the apple pie Jase made._"

"Uh, thanks," Angelina said with a smile.

"_If I don't eat it first_," he added, glancing out of frame.

Angelina laughed. "You liked it, then, huh?"

"_It was _really_ good_," Wood emphasized. "_Better than anything we had at school. Melissa says it's an American thing_."

"More like a Jasene's-been-baking-since-she-was-five thing," Angelina agreed. "Did she serve it ala mode?"

Wood's eyes widened and he leaned closer to his side of the mirror. "_That needs to happen_," he insisted, making her laugh. "_I'll ask next time I visit_."

"Getting chummy with the Weasley clan again?" Angelina teased. "If you're not careful, they'll collect you as an honorary family member."

Her teammate chuckled. "_There's definitely worse things_," he pointed out. "_And the kids are great- - Fred's eldest is definitely going to be a quidditch player. I'm gonna try to teach him to be a Keeper..._"

Angelina just nodded, giving the man a bemused smile. Family life to Wood was starting to look more and more like catnip to her cat. She really couldn't see the appeal. Who wanted to waste so much of their life raising kids when they could be so much more? She'd pointed that out to Jase before-the girl could go into business as a baker if she wanted to. And now it turns out that she's a healer that shames St Mungo's! But it felt like every time Angelina saw her, Jasene was making way for another kid instead.

"_Derek's not bad either_," Wood rambled on. "_Maybe a Chaser, though. The baby- - Brandon- - he might have a beater's build and if he's anything like his dad- -._"

"Okay, okay, stop planning sports careers," Angelina chastised with a laugh. "The kid's not even a year old!"

Wood gave her a sheepish grin as his eyes twinkled merrily. "_Sorry, got carried away_," he admitted. "_I just... I don't have many kids in my life. I mean, other than the ones who get shoved into my arms for pictures after a match, anyway._"

Angelina chuckled, she knew those sorts of kids well.

The team Keeper's expression sobered a little more. "_How's Mike?_"

"Uh, good," Angelina reported, moving from the vanity to her bed where she tucked herself under the thick blankets and disrupted Kellan's sleep. "They got him in time, like Karl said, but he's gonna be out of commission for a while."

"_Ah, that bites_," Wood responded with a frown. "_No guesstimate of when they'll get him healed up?_"

She shrugged in response. "He's called a friend in to act in his place, so I'm guessing it'll be a while," she said dismally. "But I've asked Jase to look in on him too, so maybe by the holidays."

Wood nodded thoughtfully and Angelina watched the image shift a little, showing his apartment a little before his face reappeared in front of a pillow. "_Did Karl find out anything about the sender?_"

Angelina shook her head. "Not yet, but the Aurors are stretched thin as it is."

He nodded, then gave her a smile. "_Don't worry, Lina_," he comforted. "_We'll keep you safe._"

"Oh shut up, Wood," she groaned, rolling her eyes as she smiled back.

Wood grinned. "_Want to meet for breakfast? Say the _Breakfast Club Cafe_ near you?_"

She felt her face warm a little as she nodded. "Sounds good. Meet you there around 7:15?"

"_Or I could come by and wake you_," he offered.

Angelina rolled her eyes, though her cheeks grew warmer as he waggled his eyebrows at her. "Good night, Oliver."

oOoOo

"You're awful at charm work."

Angelina nearly had a heart attack as she spun towards the voice. Her eyes practically fell out of her head as she stared. Sitting on the couch, as content as you'd please while sipping a coffee and petting an overly enthusiastic cat, was Nate. Who smirked at her when he looked up to meet her gaze.

"Your defenses didn't even take two minutes to get through," he continued, then gave Kellan's tummy a scratch as the little fuzzball stretched out along the couch. "And this little guy probably couldn't have even made a mark. Does he actually catch mice? Or is he just for decoration?"

Shock quickly receded and Angelina shot the American a glare. It was far too early to be dealing with this. "What are you _doing_ here?" she demanded. "I told you I'd meet you at the pitch."

He smiled at her with a look that made her feel like he wouldn't believe a word she said, then shrugged. "Didn't feel like bothering family. Plus, your couch is comfy. Coffee's warm, by the way."

Irritating wasn't even the word for it right now, but in lieu of doing something she'd regret (eventually), Angelina turned and helped herself to the scalding liquid. She probably would need to down the entire pot in order to make this annoying awakening any better, but an over-sized mug was a good start.

Grabbing a muffin from the counter, she'd folded herself into the chair across from Nate before she realized that she had no idea where the muffin had come from.

Nate caught her expression and grinned. "I got them, from a shop down the street," he assured her. "Should be perfectly fine, albeit a little unhealthy diet-wise."

She glared at him again. Which he seemed to find amusing. Growling incoherently even to her own ears, Angelina bit into the muffin.

"So," Nate announced, pushing back onto his feet and lumbering into the kitchen for another cup. "I've been looking over your schedules and have made a few changes."

"Brilliant," Angelina grumbled into her mug.

"And the first thing I did was schedule extra time on the pitch," he continued, looking far more thrilled than was legal at this time of day.

With a groan, Angelina dropped her face against the armrest, at which the American chuckled.

"Have you been to a gym before?"

The question made her look up again. Kellan was loudly demanded attention by climbing over the blond man's legs and rubbing against his coffee mug, but Nate didn't even seem to notice. His eyes were waiting on Angelina in a way that made her bristle.

"Yes, I've been to a muggle gym before," she snipped, narrowing her eyes at him.

Which made him smirk. "Good," he replied before she could comment on it. "Because after that, we're going to see about your weight training and endurance."

"Endurance?" she echoed, her eyebrows shooting up. "For _what_?"

"For protection, what else?" Nate responded, an eyebrow of his own arching at her as though she'd missed the most obvious thing in the world. "If your charm work is bad enough that I essentially could walk in, then you need it."

"Oh sod off!" Angelina snapped. Yep, it was definitely too early to be dealing with Mike's replacement. Why couldn't he have come by after she'd at least fully woken up or given her enough distance to have a peaceful breakfast?

Her thoughts screeched to a halt. _Breakfast. Oliver!_

With a hissed swear, Angelina was on her feet again, dropping both her coffee and muffin on the kitchen counter as she darted towards her bedroom.

"Didn't think I was that effective," Nate's voice teased gently after her.

"You weren't," she assured him, shouting as she dug through her wardrobe. "Forgot I made plans."

"Anything I get to know about?" Nate asked.

She spared a moment to roll her eyes at the door. Being patronizing was not helping his cause. "Only if you don't follow me."

"Keep dreaming," he snorted.

"Then I guess it doesn't matter, does it?" she sneered, pulling a teal sweater over her head. Next was a skirt, then leggings and a check over with her lip gloss in the mirror.

"You do realize that running around with unannounced plans while someone's targeting you probably lands you on the stupid list, right?" Nate announced when she emerged again.

"So does annoying me," she informed him with a forcibly sweet smile. "I'll be at the pitch by ten."

He raised an eyebrow, following her as she gathered her coat and purse. His arms were folded across his chest and he looked decidedly nonplussed, but she honestly couldn't care.

"If you're planning on staying here until then," she continued, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "At least don't... blow anything up or... I dunno. Don't itouch/i anything."

"Now that's a fairly difficult task," he scoffed, looking both bemused and irritated. "Not even the floor?"

She shot a final warning glare at him and turned to dart out the door. She took a moment to lock it behind her, hoping that leaving the American inside wouldn't come back to bite her, before jogging off down the stairs as she tugged on her coat. When she'd made it to the sidewalk, which was already bustling with life as muggles made their way to work, she crashed into the man waiting on the steps.

"Woah-hey!" he yelped upon collision.

"Oliver!" she gasped as his hands gripped her arms to keep them from toppling over.

He flashed her a sheepish grin. "Thought I'd come and get you," he offered, stepping aside so she could go down the steps. "You know, in case you forgot."

"Oh _very_ funny," she said, rolling her eyes as a smile appeared along with the strong heat of a blush.

Oliver gave her a cheeky smile and sauntered along beside her. Angelina cast him a side glance and another smile.

A few blocks and a ten minute wait later found them seated in yet another muggle establishment, this one busy and full of music with an energetic beat that served almost like a foundation for the din of conversation that filled every corner almost as much as the Polaroid photos and artwork that covered almost every inch of the deteriorating brick wall. Adjoining walls had shelves of oddities, like a white lady's shoe and a watering can. Behind the ordering counter, which spurred the delicious aromas of baked goods mingling with different roasts of coffee, the staff seemed to be enjoying themselves despite the morning rush as much as their patrons.

The two quidditch players had tucked themselves off at a little table by the window, where they happily tucked into their breakfasts while laughing over memories of school-time friends and Weasley pranks.

"And they haven't _changed_!" Oliver crowed, raking a hand through his hair. "Not a wit- - or, well, they're both married with kids now, but even those two- - it's like they picked the female forms of each other!"

She had to think on it for a moment, mulling his comment over with a spoonful of yogurt before nodding. "Yeah, I can see it," she agreed, slowly. "But it's like a duplication spell gone wrong and their traits got mixed."

Oliver chuckled as he lifted his coffee cup to his lips, but his eyes went past her and the amusement quickly failed away. It took Angelina a moment to notice his expression, but she frowned, too.

"What?" she asked, fighting the urge to openly look over her shoulder.

He pulled his brown eyes back to hers for a moment before nodding subtly to the far corner of the room. "Bloke over there," his voice rumbled softly. "Been watching us in a way I don't quite like."

Angelina's frown deepened, the urge to look was almost unbearable. Instead, she ran her finger around the rim of her own mug, attempting to look like she was still having a pleasant time. "What does he look like?"

Oliver glanced at her again, curiously. Then slouched back in his chair to appear relaxed as he observed whoever it was. "Big," he commented. "Like he doesn't really fit in here. Tourist, I'd almost guess, but he's watching us on purpose. Not just people-watching in general."

"Great," she scoffed, though she cast her teammate a smile. "More about physicality, Oliver?"

"Right," he said, shifting a little in embarrassment. "Er, blonde. Wearing old jeans and brown leather- -."

"With plaid and sunglasses?" she asked.

Oliver's eyes snapped towards her questioningly as he nodded. "How'd- -?"

She'd already spun around, her eyes traveling over the sea of customers' faces until they settled on the man in question, and she leveled him a hearty glare.

To which the American smirked, lifting his own coffee as if to toast her.

"Is... Should I do something?" Oliver offered.

Huffing in irritation, she spun back to the quidditch player and forced a smile. "No, even if I'd applaud it," she responded, turning her attention to what was left of her breakfast. "He's nothing to worry about."

"Really," Oliver drawled in disbelief, though he also went back to his coffee. "Then why's he coming towards us?"

"He's _what_?!" she yelped, swallowing a spoonful of berries quickly to turn again. But it was too late.

"Cute place you've come to, Johnson," Nate commented jovially as he lumbered to a stop by their table, looking around as though bemused by the decor. "Very... kitschy hipster. I should tell my sister about this place."

"_What_ are you doing here?" Angelina demanded in lieu of greeting.

Nate gave her another smirk. "My job."

"Oh, your job is to irritate me?" Angelina asked with feigned innocence. "We'll you're an absolute _lark_ at it."

The American raised an eyebrow at her, probably confused by her terms but still seeming to find her amusing. As though he was actually more comfortable with her having a biting personality than he would've if she was docile.

"Right, who are you?" Oliver asked, glancing between the two in confusion.

Nate's smirk turned towards the other quidditch player with a speculative eye. "Nate," he introduced after a moment, holding out a hand almost as though he wanted to deepen Angelina's scowl. "I'm standing in for Mike Smithers while he's on bed-rest. You?"

"Er." Oliver blinked, taken aback slightly before gripping the other man's hand tentatively. "Oliver Wood."

The American raised an eyebrow, eying the seated man again. "That's a familiar name."

Oliver shrugged. "Guess it should be, I'm on the team."

"Starting keeper, right?" Nate asked after a moment, casting Angelina a glance.

She was going to hit him. One more word and her pseudo-agent would be sporting a shiner dark enough to impress a world class fighter.

"Right," Oliver confirmed with a nod, though he continued to give Angelina confused glances.

Before they could stop him, Nate had spun away to address the table behind him. "Mind?"

Within seconds he'd turned back only to drop into a chair that he'd commandeered with nothing more than a grin of those too white teeth at the two women who were flushing pink behind him. Angelina scowled. _Freakin colonist_.

"So," the blonde said, leaning forward on the table as though this was perfectly normal. "You two went to school together, you can start there."

"Excuse _you_!" Angelina snapped as Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "What makes you think that invading our personal lives is part of your job?"

"Uh," Nate started, snagging a berry from her plate and plopping it into his mouth before she could effectively protest. "I think it was that bit Mike told me about someone going after you. Yeah, pretty sure that's it. Got something to hide, Oliver Wood?"

Oliver gaped at him in alarm, but Angelina cut him off before a word could leave his lips. "What are you talking about?" she snapped. "Who's going after me?"

"Haven't worked that part out yet, but it's only been-what? Eighteen hours since I've been on the job?" Nate mused. "Even my _illustrious_ sister would have issues with that time line. Point is, you've had two close friends attacked in the past week from coming into contact with items that were intended for _your_ hands."

"Okay, shut up!" Angelina hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Yes, she'd realized that the attacks on Serafina and Mike weren't coincidence, but did she really have to focus on that right now? What was supposed to have been a nice breakfast out with Wood was turning into a brewing batch of stress. _All thanks to this idiot from the States._

Worse, Oliver seemed to be jumping onto the American's band wagon with a gusto. "But why do they keep trying through the post?" he asked, leaning in similarly to Nate's pose. "The whole wizarding world knows that it's getting screened."

"Does it?" Nate asked, frowning.

Angelina found herself nodding. "Lee Jordan published it in one of his articles when he took longer than necessary after an interview and over heard Mike and I discussing it."

"The whole NQA's stepped up their screening," Wood added. "There's at least three levels letters have to go through- - four for parcels. And each level is cleared by an Auror."

Nate tipped his head towards Wood to concede the point with a raised eyebrow before he reached for Angelina's coffee. To which she smacked his hand. Undeterred, he shrugged and seemingly reached below the table for no real reason (_perhaps to satisfy an itch, probably flea ridden_) only to bring up a full cup of coffee of his own.

Angelina's eyes widened at him in reprimand. The idiot was doing magic in front of _Muggles_! Nate raised an eyebrow at her indignation, smirking as he raised the cup to his lips. She switched her attention to Oliver, hoping to get some assistance in being against the man's actions, but he was frowning at his half eaten breakfast in deep concentration. _He probably hadn't even noticed that Nate didn't have a coffee to begin with!_

"I think the bigger problem is _how_ they're managing to get around the screening process in the first place," Nate provided, setting the cup on the table and actively avoiding Angelina's irritation.

The point he made quickly replaced her anger with a focused chill. That was yet another thing she'd been unnerved by. How had it even been possible to even get so close to her that they took out her agent and a teammate?

"You think we're dealing with more than an obsessed fan," Wood's voice cut through her thoughts and brought her attention back to the American, who looked mildly alarming with his grim expression.

"I'm not crossing out options yet," he said after a moment. "But I think obsessed fans are the least of Angelina's problems."

With that, Angelina was definitely put off the rest of her breakfast and she motioned for the check.

_**A/N:**__ Yes, I know, I'm so sorry for the delay! 2014 was... well... chaos. But through distraction and illness and family and death, I've managed to get a chapter done! :D Yeah... I realize this chapter has very little development, or at leas that's how it appears, but it'll make sense eventually! ... hopefully... Side note, I haven't been to the Breakfast Club Cafes, so I honestly have no idea how they run nor what they serve! Please go and find out for me and view my writing with a grain of salt on that! ^_^_


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